


Dear Porcupine

by momo_official



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Finn/Rey - Freeform, Finn/poe - Freeform, Kylo Ren/Hux - Freeform, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, i continue to be a disappointment to my friends and family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:38:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7343260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momo_official/pseuds/momo_official
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Solo. Rey brushed her thumb against the soul mark. Every couple of weeks, she searched the name on her ancient laptop to see if anything came up. Every time, the results were the same: Twelve year old boy vanishes.</p><p>[Modern Day Reylo with Soulmate-Identifying Marks.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If Kylo and Rey are related, I am up a motherfucking creek.
> 
> Credit where credit is due: this was inspired by TheBoyJaxx's fic "Gentrification." Amazing world-building!
> 
> 6/30: Story published. Chapter 1 edited to remove a glaring mistake.

            Rey remembers every detail of that Tuesday perfectly. It was the first cold snap of October; the morning sun filtered through the dying leaves outside the Outpost Cafe. One of the windows was open to let out the humidity from the kitchen. There were exactly five other customers sitting at the Outpost’s tables. Her coworker Finn had insisted on playing through Grimes’s _Art Angels_ on the loudspeakers…again. The stranger’s very first coffee order had been a large dry three-shot soy cappuccino.

 

            She kept scrubbing at a difficult milk stain on the espresso bar while Finn stuttered his way through the order at the register.

 

            “Just foam? No liquid. At all?” The hesitation was plain in his voice. Rey paused her scrubbing.

 

            “Yes.” The customer had a deep monotone. She couldn’t see him from this angle, but Finn’s bewildered expression said enough. “Will that be a problem?”

 

            Rey went back to scrubbing the milk stain. A large dry soy cappuccino required more milk than could be held in one pitcher; soy milk was notorious for inflating like a child’s balloon when heated. The volume of the foam would far exceed what the pitcher could hold, so she’d have to steam more than one. The amount of fluid she’d have to discard was wasteful at best, assuming she made enough foam perfectly on the first try. An asshole’s order.

 

            Finn had been quiet for a while. The milk stain finally lifted under Rey’s cleaning rag. She glanced over while placing the rag back in its bucket of cleaning fluid and found her coworker giving her an apologetic look from the register.

 

            She shrugged and put her thumbs together, leaving her index fingers outstretched to form a “w.” _Whatever_.

 

            Finn set his jaw and nodded. “Okay,” he said under his breath as he turned back to the customer. “Yeah, alright.” He began punching the cappuccino into the register. “No problem. Coming right up.”

 

            Rey opened the tiny fridge underneath the espresso bar and pulled out the soy milk. It was only when she started filling two pitchers that she realized Finn hadn’t asked the guy’s name. Business was too slow for it to matter.

 

            She was in the middle of putting freshly-ground espresso beans into the machine when she felt eyes on her. She looked up and found the customer in question peering at her over the espresso machine, his face just a few feet from hers.

 

            Rey looked back to the espresso machine and pressed a button. As the spigots rattled to life, she put two shot glasses underneath to catch the resulting flow of espresso. She began steaming the first pitcher of soy milk. When she looked up again, the customer hadn’t moved; if anything, he had gotten closer.

 

            She gave him a tense smile and looked back down. “Interested in becoming a barista, are you?”

 

            “I like to make sure everything is done correctly,” he replied. The intensity of his dark eyes made her feel small, and it was only coffee they were talking about. Rey ground up one last shot of espresso and loaded it into the machine before steaming the second pitcher of soy milk.

 

            She poured the shots into a white cardboard cup and scooped the ungodly amount of soy milk foam over them. While finishing her work, she glanced to Finn, but he was busy taking stock of the fruit in their smoothie freezer at the other end of the counter. She reached for a black plastic lid.

 

            “Large three-shot soy cappuccino.” Rey set the cup down on the counter, causing the customer to (finally) lean away from her. “Bone-dry,” she added and put the heel of her hand against the counter, staring back at the man.

 

            The customer reached out and drew the cappuccino close to his chest. The white cup seemed to glow against his black shirt and blazer. He blinked and gave her a half-bow, causing a few curls to escape his hair and sweep over his cheeks. Rey raised her eyebrows.

 

            “Thank you,” he said.

 

            He turned on his heel and strode out of the Outpost.

 

            Rey whipped around and hissed, “Finn!”

           

            Finn startled and looked up from his clipboard. She jabbed a thumb towards the glass door. On the other side, the customer had his cappuccino in one hand and was staring at his phone in the other.

 

            Finn shook his head at the man. “Who gets a drink like that?”

 

            Rey set about cleaning the soy milk pitchers in the nearby sink. “A freak, that’s who. He wouldn’t stop staring at me.”

 

            Finn kept his eyes on the man outside while he walked over to Rey. Outside, the customer finally looked up from his phone and took a sharp left turn, away from the shop. Finn rested his hand on Rey’s upper back. “You okay?” he asked.

 

            Rey gave Finn a tiny smile. “Yeah. You know me.” She turned back to the espresso bar and put the clean pitchers back in their designated spots. “Just some weirdo.”

 

            He rubbed small circles into her back before withdrawing his hand. “He tries anything, I’ll get him for you. Okay, Peanut?”

 

* * *

 

            Finn had been a constant presence in her life since they were in elementary school, since Maz had been alive. They had grown up together and grew close when they realized they were both being bullied: Rey for being an adopted child, Finn for having military parents that worked so hard they were rarely around. Maz, her guardian, let Rey take Finn home every afternoon after school and plied him with cookies until his parents called the house and told Maz they were home. The few times Rey saw Finn’s parents, they were equally gentle and welcoming. Though she adored Maz, the affection made her miss her biological parents, whoever they had been.

 

            As time went on, Maz started driving them to school and picking them up in her ancient Volvo. When they got older, Finn and Rey walked to Rey and Maz’s after school. In high school, they started holding hands, then stealing giggly kisses behind the oak trees next to a pizza shop, and before they were even fully aware of it, kids at Jakku High called them a couple. It felt inevitable. Maz had even thrown her head back and laughed when Rey admitted it.

 

            But the name on the inside of Rey’s thigh was not Finn’s, no matter how hard she wished it.

 

            Without ever discussing it, they mutually avoided talking about soul marks. Rey didn’t mention her mark, and Finn never mentioned his. It wasn’t until her sophomore year that she suspected Finn didn’t have one at all. She turned sixteen. Finn started applying to colleges. They never had sex.

 

            Maz got sick.

 

            Then Finn got accepted into Coruscant University across the city, then Maz passed away, then Rey realized she couldn’t afford to join Finn. Finn would return to Jakku to visit family, to visit her, but other than that, she was on her own. Coruscant was an entire world she would never have access to.

 

            Time shrank to a pinpoint, and they had to plan their last days together carefully. Suddenly the bigger questions like sex and soul marks had to be answered immediately or never at all. Once Finn was out of Jakku, the delicate world they had built themselves of lazy urban summers and flipping through Maz’s photo albums would leave with him.

 

            Two nights before Finn was due to leave, after Rey had already begun the rest of her life working at the Outpost, they huddled together in her childhood bedroom and carefully removed each other’s shirts under the fairy lights. She felt lean and soft under Finn’s broad chest, felt cherished as he kissed each freckle on her breasts.

           

            She reached for the waistband of his sweatpants, but when she rolled it down, she caught sight of a name on the curve of his hip. _Poe Dameron_ , said the soul mark. It was pale against his dark skin. _Poe Dameron._ Not Rey Kanata.

 

            Finn put his hand on top of hers as her throat closed. His eyes were filled with pain.

 

            “I’m so sorry, Peanut.” He cupped her cheek. Rey took a deep breath and began to cry.

 

            Two days later, Rey watched the UHaul rumble down the street: towards Coruscant University, away from her, away from everything.

 

* * *

 

            Finn paused in counting the cash in the safe to help her tip the mop bucket into the drain.

 

            “I can manage just fine,” Rey grumbled, but smiled anyway and let Finn help her. It was five-thirty; the Outpost was closed and the cook had already gone home. Rey was just thankful that tonight was her night off from her courier job.

 

            “Is that why you couldn’t even tip the thing?” Finn replied. They set the mop bucket down together, and he nudged her shoulder with his own. Rey giggled and nudged him back.

 

            She said, “I just hope the guy from this morning isn’t waiting in the bushes outside my building.” She grabbed the hose and rinsed out the mob bucket. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

 

            Finn groaned and shook his head. “Don’t even joke about that, Peanut.” In a deep monotone, he added: “I need more foam from you.”

 

            This earned him a kick from Rey before the two of them collapsed into fits of laughter.

 

            Later, as Finn locked the front door of the Outpost, he asked, “You working tonight?”

 

            Rey shrugged. “First night off in three weeks. You?”

 

            Finn pocketed the keys and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Got some paperwork to do. Then I’m in the office bright and early tomorrow at seven AM.”

 

            The golden afternoon light made Finn look like he was glowing. Rey kissed his cheek. “You’re always welcome to stop by the Outpost for caffeine, Mr. Janitor.”

            Finn smiled and held up a finger. “Ah! Mr. _Sanitation_. Being in the Sanitation department of HR is serious business. Someone could get sick if it wasn’t for my business savvy.” He slung his arm over her shoulder and gave her a side-hug.

 

            “Suuure,” she said. “Sanitation.” She crouched to unlock her bike from the lamp post. After a pause, she said, “You’ll get promoted to full time there eventually. Won’t you?”

           

            Finn sighed. “Yeah, eventually. A bachelor’s means nothing without experience.”

 

            Rey swung her leg over her bike and put the lock in her backpack. “Keep showing up at seven, and they’ll promote you. Promise.”

 

            He ruffled her hair.

 

            They parted ways.

 

* * *

 

            A year ago, she had been scrubbing the floors of the Outpost when she heard the door open. “We’re closed!” she called.

 

            Immaculate white sneakers appeared in the corner of her vision. “Are you hiring, ma’am?” said a voice.

 

            She looked up. Finn stood there in a suit, grinning.

 

            Rey dropped her brush and gasped. “Peanut!” She threw herself into his arms and he spun her around with glee. “But,” she said when he had set her back down, “Don’t you have school?”

 

            “I have time for a part-time job,” he murmured. “And I wanted to come back. I wanted to come back and help you.”

 

            Rey stuttered. “I don’t need help,” is the reply she finally settled on.

 

            Finn frowned. “Is this about what happened before I left?”

 

            “No, Finn. Finn.” She reached out and tried to smooth the worry lines from his face. “You can’t help the mark thing. I…” A lump appeared in her throat. She swallowed past it. “You’re still my friend. Even if…even if the relationship thing won’t work.”

 

            A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’m allowed back?”

 

            Rey squeezed her eyes shut. She felt like she was dreaming. “Of course,” she blurted out. “Always.”

 

            Then Finn graduated from Coruscant. He saved a commencement ticket for her. She cheered the loudest out of anyone.

 

* * *

 

            Rey jumped off of her bike and wheeled it into the elevator in her apartment building; there was barely enough room for both her and the bicycle in the rusted space. Someone had tagged the wall with _GREEDO_ in blue spray-paint. When it finally reached her floor, the smell of weed filled her nose.

 

            Two out of her three roommates were curled up on the couch, silently doing homework. Rey leaned the bike against the wall and locked the apartment door behind her. At this point, she had given up trying to be best friends with the girls; instead, they lived in a polite silence, stepping around each other’s lives and leaving their share of the rent and utilities in an envelope on the coffee table each month.

            She walked into her room, closed and locked the door behind her. She sat on her bed and wriggled out of her jeans. The jeans went to the floor, along with her white socks.

 

            On the inside of her thigh, in dark brown letters: _Ben Solo._

 

            Rey brushed her thumb against the soul mark. Every couple of weeks, she searched the name on her ancient laptop to see if anything came up. Every time, the results were the same: _Twelve year old boy vanishes_. A picture of a big-eared, grinning child against a blue portrait background, his dark curls slicked back for school picture day. A teary-eyed older couple, holding the same school photo in miniature in their hands. All the articles are dated 1998. In 2004, the case reopened, only to close again. Ben was probably dead by now. Rey lost her soulmate before she was out of diapers.

 

            She closed her eyes and thought of Finn,  the way he had cradled her close before he had to leave for university. She tried to imagine his soul mark erasing under her fingers like a mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. You are all so sweet. I never thought this story would blow up the way it did. Thank you so much for reading, commenting, bookmarking, and kudos-ing; you inspire me. I hope you enjoy this next part!
> 
> 7/7: Chapter uploaded.  
> 7/9: Corrected Hux's first name to "Armitage." THANKS EXTENDED UNIVERSE.

            The Outpost had a line out the door Wednesday morning. Rey barely had time to lock her bike before she was rushing to get behind the counter. Teedo was cooking breakfast sandwiches as fast as she could punch them into the register, and she bussed three of them out to tables before she remembered to clock in. The barista, a trembling girl from the Tatooine neighborhood named Mala, botched ten drinks before noon; her and Rey had to trade places over and over again. When an elderly businessman paused to mull over the Outpost’s vegetarian options, Rey ducked under the register and grabbed a black apron from the bottom shelf. Her baggy white tee was the best H&M’s sale section had to offer, and Rey didn’t want to toss it if Mala spilled the cold brew coffee _again_.

 

            She sighed with relief when the last customer stepped up to order. He was a pale, pinched-looking man with a shock of red hair. His blazer had a brooch shaped like a red gear on it. Rey smelled expensive cologne.

 

            “Large pumpkin spice latte with whipped cream. Extra hot.” He had a thick accent. “And a large dry three-shot soy cappuccino.”

 

            Rey paused. “Um. Of course.” She felt a twinge in her gut. Mala was on her break; she’d have to make the nightmare drink a second time. “Can I have a name?”

 

            “Armitage.” The man bounced on his toes and gave her a self-important smile. “Please label the cappuccino for ‘Kylo.’”

 

            Rey adjusted her blue denim baseball cap. “Does, um.” She waved her hand as she walked to the espresso machine. “Does…Kylo have dark hair?”

 

            Armitage followed her to the espresso bar from the other side of the counter. Rey began grinding the necessary espresso shots. In the corner, Mala was nibbling on an English muffin and reading the _Jakku Daily_ , far away from Armitage. Rey felt envy rise hot into her cheeks. He was now peering over the edge of the machine, just as Kylo had done.

 

            He replied, “Black as night, yes. Why?”

 

            Rey looked up over the steam of the hot milk pitcher. He raised his eyebrows at her and moved the corners of his mouth up in the imitation of a smile. She pressed her lips together.

 

            “I recognized the order.” Rey held back the milk foam with a spoon as she poured the hot milk into a cup over espresso and a scoop of canned pumpkin. “I think I saw him yesterday.”

 

            “Ah.” Armitage spoke over the hiss of the whipped cream canister. “So _you_ were responsible for his recommendation.”

 

            Kylo remembered her. Rey slid the latte over the counter and said nothing.

 

            He continued, “One doesn’t make it to Jakku much. I had wondered what in heaven drove me here.”

 

            Rey focused on steaming the soy milk for Kylo’s cappuccino instead of splashing it in Armitage’s face.

 

* * *

 

             Maz taught Rey how to embroider. It was meant to be a meditative practice, a way for Rey to calm herself and focus her energy on something productive. Every Sunday morning, her and Maz sat down in the living room and worked on their own projects until noon.

 

            One April Sunday when Rey was fifteen, it poured while her and Maz embroidered together. Rey was making a desert scene in the corner of a white blanket. The cacti were giving her trouble, and she hunched over in her seat as she tried to get a pink cactus flower to look just right. Maz said to let go of perfection; Rey hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it at that point.

 

            “Maz,” she said, because Maz was always “Maz” to her and never “Mom” or “Grandma” or the like. “Do you have a soulmark?” Before that Sunday, Rey couldn’t recall a moment when she had asked such a personal question.

 

            The old woman smiled at the green tea cloth she had in her hands. “No, child. I’m one of the lucky few without one.” She looked up at Rey, her smile becoming wry. “I am my own soulmate.”

 

            Rey snorted. She should have known: Maz claimed she lived for so long because she had never had anyone tying her down. The rickety Jakku house they lived in had belonged to Maz’s mother, and Maz had filled it with photos of her soul-bonded friends in lieu of a soulmate. Above all, there were photos of Rey: Rey in diapers, Rey showing off a popsicle-blue tongue and a gap in her front teeth, Rey and Maz holding hands at the Coruscant Zoo. When Rey was young, before could read the name on her thigh, she had mistaken Maz for her true soulmate.

                       

            She set her embroidery down on her lap and looked out the window. “Can I ask you something?” She stared hard at the peach tree in their front yard. “I…I know I don’t have Finn’s name on me. He probably doesn’t have mine.” The peach tree bowed under the weight of the rain. “Maz, do you think my relationship with him is a bad idea?”

 

            Maz didn’t reply.

 

            Rey continued, “I mean, you might not have any opinion on it.” She brushed her fingers against a family of tumbleweeds on the corner of her embroidery hoop. The texture felt solid, comforting, real. “I’m sorry if this seems rude.”

 

            “Rey.”

 

            She looked up. Maz had also set her embroidery down. Now she stared at Rey with what Finn always called “lazer eyes.” Her muddy green eyes looked huge behind her glasses.

 

            The older woman spoke slowly. “If you are harming no one, then there is nothing ‘bad’ about what makes you happy.”

 

            Rey sat back against her chair and picked at the pink thread on the cactus flower. “It can’t last, though. Finn and I aren’t bonded.”

 

            Maz tutted and continued her stitching. “You must learn, pretty girl,” she said, “that a soulmate is not always romantic. I have seen soulmates that exist to challenge their partners. They are there to set you on an irreversible path, Rey, the one that leads to your truest self.”

 

            Rey felt her cheeks flush with warmth and affection for this woman, her adoptive mother, her only family. “How do you know?”

 

            Maz chuckled and didn’t reply.

 

            When Rey thinks back on this day, she can already see the tumor flowering in Maz’s brain.

 

* * *

 

            While she was biking to the pizza place for her nighttime courier job, Rey felt her phone buzz. She pulled over and fished it out of its handlebar pouch.

 

            _Miss u peanut_ , said Finn’s text. _Sanitation not as fun without u._

Rey grinned. She texted back, _Bring donuts tomorrow and alls forgiven._

 

* * *

 

            True to his word, Finn brought a box of donuts from Senate Pastries the next day. The two of them huddled in the back before their shift, picking through the bright pink box together.

 

            Sated with raspberry jelly, Rey took over the register while Finn helped Mala at the espresso bar. Thursday mornings at the Outpost were always on the slow side after the morning rush subsided. Rey doodled on a napkin. Mala had picked the Regina Spektor Pandora playlist for that day’s music; Rey mouthed along to the words as she drew a fox’s smiling head.

 

            “Some talent you got there,” said a voice.

 

            Rey looked up. A man in a wheelchair grinned at her from the other side of the counter. His brown leather jacket and orange polo matched the orange-and-white harness on the white Husky following him.

 

            “Oh God.” Rey straightened up and tried to hide the napkin behind the register. “Were you waiting long?”

 

            The man threw his head back and laughed. “Nah. Just got here. The Yelp reviews were good, so I figured I’d see for myself.” His dark eyes were filled with mirth.

 

            Rey looked down and saw several flag and wing pins on his chest. “A pilot?” When Rey was little, Maz bought her as many model airplane kits as they could afford. “What do you fly?”

 

            “Just commercial stuff.” The man folded his hands in his lap. His smile turned shy. “I’ve got a 36-hour to Australia tomorrow night. You ever been to Perth?”

 

            The Husky made a soft “woo woo” sound. Rey jumped. The man scratched it behind the ears. It obediently sat down, tongue lolling out. _PLEASE DON’T PET ME…I’M WORKING!_ said its harness.

 

            “Sorry. That’s just BB8. She gets a little nervous when we have to go on long flights.” The man scratched BB8 under her collar; the dog closed her eyes and stretched her head out to accommodate him.

 

            “No problem,” Rey laughed. “What can I get you?”

 

            “Large iced red-eye.”

 

            “Any sugar or cream?”

 

            “Nope. Black like my heart.”

 

            Rey giggled. Nothing about this man seemed dark. Even if he was a commercial pilot ordering a caffeine-heavy drink, he seemed bright and alert. She felt safe just looking at him and imagined his passengers feeling the same.

 

            “What’s your name?” she asked.

 

            “Poe.”

 

            Rey’s eyes flicked over to Finn. He was watching them from the espresso bar with his eyebrows raised. She recognized that spark of hope in his eyes: it was the same hold-your-breath feeling she had experienced while Googling _Ben Solo_ for the first time and waiting for the results to load.

 

            “Nice to meet you, Poe,” she said while she wrote his name on the coffee cup. Her voice seemed faint to her. “I’m Rey.”

 

            “Well, hello, Rey.” If Poe had noticed her change in emotion, he didn’t comment on it. He stuck out his hand for her to shake. BB8 sniffed at their hands. “Nice to meet you too. I get a feeling we’ll be great friends, huh?”

 

            Rey smiled around the knot in her throat. “Yeah,” she said. “Does BB8 want some water?”

 

            Poe sighed with relief. “Yes, please. Poor girl has to deal with me all day.” As if on cue, BB8 let out a louder “woo.”

 

            Rey wrote “BB8” on a second plastic cup. “Make yourself comfortable. We’ll bring it out for you.”

 

            As Poe and BB8 made for a table, Rey crept towards Finn. He leaned in and hissed, “Do you think…?”

 

            “Yes!” Rey hissed back. The ear-to-ear grin on Finn’s face made her feel guilty. How could she have ever felt jealousy?

 

            He squeezed Poe’s empty coffee cup. “But what if it’s a different Poe?”

 

            “Go!” Rey pushed Finn in the direction of the iced coffee tank. Mala continued steaming milk, oblivious to the two whispering at each other.

 

            She went back to sketching her fox. When Finn walked out to the café with Poe’s coffee and BB8’s water in hand, she set her Sharpie down and watched them meet. Poe’s eyes grew soft when he took in Finn’s nervous smile. They began chatting quietly in Poe’s corner of the Outpost. At one point, Poe rested his hand on Finn’s arm and Finn laughed, the kind of easy laugh Rey thought was meant only for her. She winced and looked back down at the napkin. When she looked up again, Finn was kneeling next to BB8, watching the dog slurp water out of the cup in his hands.

 

            Mala wandered into the back to get more lemons for iced tea. In the kitchen, Teedo was playing speed metal; the music wafted into the Outpost from the order window and mixed with Regina Spektor’s piano.

 

            The door to the Outpost swung open. Rey straightened up.

 

            Kylo strode in, face impassive as he took in Rey standing at the register. She swallowed. His eyes trailed over her body, over her t-shirt: _Jakku Annual Artisan Festival 2014._ She took a step back.

“Hi,” she said.

 

            Kylo seemed to shake himself. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black wallet. “Large dry—“

 

            “Three-shot soy cappucinno?”

           

            His bottom lip quivered. He opened his mouth to say something, seemed to think better of it, closed it again. He pulled out a crisp twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her without another word. Rey entered in the drink order and opened the register to count out change.

 

            “Can I have a name for the order?” There were no other customers in line; there was no need to ask him for his name, but she had to know.

 

            And sure enough, he responded, “Kylo.”

 

            He added, “I want you to make it.”

 

            Rey paused in counting out one-dollar-bills. “Huh?”

 

            “I want you to make the cappuccino.” Kylo looked out the window of the café next to the register. Was he avoiding eye contact? “Please,” he added, like an afterthought.

 

            A beat passed. Rey felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest. In the corner of the café, Finn laughed at something Poe said.

 

            “Of course,” she murmured.

 

            “You make it correctly.” Kylo pressed his lips together, watched a truck rumble by the café. “I’ve never seen it done with such grace.”

 

            Rey’s mouth went dry. Was he _hitting_ on her? Kylo shoved his wallet back into his pocket and walked to the end of the espresso bar. Once he got there, he looked back to her with that same blank expression.

 

            She wiped her hands on her jeans and walked over. As she ground espresso shots and steamed the soy milk, she avoided his intense stare. Unlike Armitage, Kylo didn’t bother making conversation while she worked.

 

            Rey passed the drink over the counter. “Here you go, _Kylo_.” His name felt odd in her mouth. “Bone dry.”

            Kylo drew the finished drink close to his chest, just like he had two days ago. Rey was reminded of a dragon guarding its hoard, except the horde was a cappucinno that Rey had made. An unsure look passed over his face, but just as Rey thought it was there, it disappeared again.

 

            “What is your name?” Kylo asked.

 

            Rey forced a smile on her face. “I’m Rey.”

 

            Kylo recoiled like she had spit at him. Rey felt a rush of embarrassment for him. Although he made her uneasy, something about him also screamed “alien,” like someone had thrown him out of a truck onto a planet that wasn’t his.

 

            Rey busied herself with cleaning up the espresso bar.

 

            “Hello, Rey,” he said quietly.

 

            Rey dumped out the espresso grounds and looked up to reply, but Kylo was already walking away, standing proud like nothing had happened. As he passed Poe’s table, BB8 stood and wagged her tail.

 

            Kylo stopped and looked down at the dog. BB8 took the opportunity to shove her face between Kylo’s legs, her tail thumping against Poe’s wheelchair. Kylo froze.

 

            Finn doubled over laughing. Poe tugged on BB8’s leash, but the dog held still. He was grinning. “I’m sorry,” Rey heard him say, “she’s a little _too_ friendly sometimes.”

 

            “It’s fine,” Kylo replied. He lifted his cappucinno away from the dog like she was going to steal it from him. “She _is_ an animal.”

 

            BB8 sat down, finally releasing Kylo from her explorations. She sneezed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you so much for your kind words and patience. My life was a whirlwind the past couple of weeks. <3
> 
> 7/29: Chapter uploaded.

            The city of Galactic got colder and colder. Finn came to work with bags under his eyes from late night paperwork. He and Rey huddled together on a bench outside the Outpost, picking apart a muffin before their shifts. Rey slowly added coats and scarves to her “Jabba’s Pizza” courier uniform when she worked at night. Sometimes she shivered while she handed takeout bags to customers, and this earned her more tips. Rey despised the pity even as she pocketed the extra money.

 

            Kylo and Armitage made visiting the Outpost a habit in the morning. Sometimes it was just Armitage, sent to fetch both of their orders; most of the time, it was both of them. Kylo never arrived unaccompanied and always, always ordered the cappuccino. Whenever Rey caught sight of their dark suits across the intersection outside, she began steaming soy milk. Once Kylo made it to the register, Rey pushed a large dry three-shot soy cappuccino into his hands. No matter how many times she did this, he looked bewildered.

 

            On the mornings he and Armitage ordered breakfast, they whispered to each other at a table nearest the huge windows. Sometimes Rey caught Kylo staring at her with his clasped hands pressed to his mouth.

 

            Poe and BB8 became semi-regulars: they always dropped by for breakfast or lunch if Poe didn’t have a flight. He and Finn exchanged numbers, and soon after that, Poe took Rey aside and got her number for good measure. Poe was somewhat of an amateur photographer; he brought his camera with him to the Outpost and showed them pictures of airport sculptures, dismantled Boeing planes, foreign luggage carousels with BB8 watching the suitcases go by. He sent them postcards and trinkets from China, Chile, Alaska, Montana, Australia.

 

            When Finn told her that Poe finally asked him out, Rey’s heart ached even as she congratulated him. The two had figured out they were soulmates. Finn and Poe hadn’t avoided the topic, not like Finn and Rey had. Did they know from first sight? Rey Googled Ben Solo again, stared hard at the picture of the grinning boy, but there was no spark, no indication that he was anything more than a kidnapped kid whose name matched the one on her thigh. Just a shitty coincidence.

 

            Rey spent a week staring hard into the faces of her customers. Were you the right person? Were _you_? Her heart pounded when she rung unfamiliar doorbells at night; could _this_ person ordering pizza from her _now_ be a good match? At stoplights she imagined futures with the commuters in cars beside her. Her roommates brought their own soulmates home, laughed with them while she kept her head down and stayed in her bedroom. In the middle of the night she woke up and lay face-down in the pillow.

 

            With November’s first snow came a grinding feeling that there was really no one for her. Finn still kissed her on the cheek, rubbed her back, held her hand, but she didn’t dare tell him why she was wiping away stray tears in the walk-in fridge during the lunch rush. Poe’s easy smile drove the knife in further. How could she feel so _angry_ towards her friends? Finn was never meant for her. Every time her phone buzzed with another text from the two of them, she scolded herself for being selfish and forced herself to read it.

 

            And every morning, there was the large dry three-shot soy cappuccino.

 

* * *

 

            Unkar Plutt’s paycheck came with a request (see: _order_ ) for Rey to open the Outpost at five the next morning. This meant that she had approximately three hours to herself that night, her only night off. Rey scowled at Unkar when he turned away from her.

 

            At home, she made herself macaroni and cheese on the stovetop. She picked at it as she crossed the apartment to her room and locked the door behind her. Something about shutting the world out made her feel safe: just her, her polka-dot comforter, her clothes strewn in piles around the room, and her meal. Rey shoveled pasta into her mouth, curled up on a corner of her bed with her back to the wall.

            When she finished, she set the bowl on her bedside table and stared at the ceiling. Finn had noticed how withdrawn she had become. Every day at work had become a drag in a way it hadn’t been before. She absentmindedly thumped her fist against her thigh. Finn having a soulmate that wasn’t her was something she had known since she was old enough to read; _Ben Solo_ didn’t sound like _Finn Storme_ no matter how you read it, and _Poe Dameron_ was no _Rey Kanata. “_ Ben Solo” had always been the little boy who was kidnapped in the 90s.

 

            She brought her knees to her chest and stared at her only poster: a diagram of an X-wing military jet. As she traced the familiar lines with her eyes, Rey went over the math. If Ben were still alive, he’d be thirty. What kind of job would he have? His family said he had loved fantasy novels. Perhaps a writer? Rey folded her arms and rested them on her knees. Maybe he’d be working at the Outpost, too. Maybe he’d be a regular. She tried to imagine that earnest smile and those large ears on the face of a man and failed.

 

* * *

 

            Rey unlocked the Outpost at four the next morning. Jakku, like the rest of the city, was at a low hum, quiet as its residents slept the last few hours before their alarm clocks. She locked the door behind her, flicked on the lights, and walked past the empty seats to the back.

 

            Her list of duties as an opener included:

 

            1) Unlock the registers and ensure there was exactly one hundred and fifty dollars in each till;

            2) Restart the Outpost’s WiFi (“OutpostWifiAskForPassword,” password “bantha1978”);

            3) Boot up both register computers;

            4) Restart espresso machine and flush with three cycles of clean hot water;

            5) Fill espresso grinder with fresh beans;

            6) Brew one hot batch of hot drip house roast coffee, one hot batch of dark roast   drip coffee, one jug of iced coffee;

           

            etc. etc.

 

            She turned on Iron and Wine radio on Pandora and went to work. As the hot coffee slowly dripped into its pitchers, she ground herself two shots of espresso. She had forgotten to check the walk-in fridge; Teedo may have set aside some day-old pastries she could sell for half-off today. Rey scooped a cup of ice and poured her espresso shots over it. The sun hadn’t risen yet. The streetlamps were still on. She chugged the espresso shots and dumped the cup out in the sink.

 

            _Tap tap tap._

 

            Rey looked up. Kylo was at the door, rapping at the glass with the backs of his knuckles. She narrowed her eyes.

 

            He mouthed something.

 

            Rey crept around the edge of the counter and moved towards the door. As she grew closer, she began to notice several indications that something was not quite right.

 

            His clothes were well-pressed and his shoes were still shined. The most important detail: Kylo was alone. The second most important detail: his stare was still intense and a little unnerving, but his eyes were softer, red around the edges, like he hadn’t slept. His shoulders were rounded, a far cry from his normally proud stance.

 

            She stood on the other side of the door and stared at him.

 

            “Are you open?” he asked through the glass, resting his knuckles against it, and she realized that’s what he had mouthed to her prior.

 

            Rey blinked. She turned, looked at the camera behind the register that was pointed at the door. Its light blinked red.

 

            Rey turned back. There was a slight tremble in his hand where it rested against the door.

           

            She uncrossed her arms. “Sure,” she said. “Sure, yeah. Come on.” Rey fished her keys out of her pocket.

 

            She opened the door just wide enough for Kylo to slip through. He beelined past her to his normal table in the corner of the café, right next to the windows. Rey watched from the door as he sat down and curled over the table with his clasped hands pressed to his mouth. Bon Iver came onto the Pandora station.

 

            Rey adjusted her hat. “Um. Do you want some pastries?” Kylo looked up at her with a blank expression. “I’ll see if we’ve got day-olds.” She pointed a thumb towards the kitchen, like he could see through the walls into the walk-in fridge. “I won’t charge you.”

 

            “What do you have?”

 

            “Probably just a couple of muffins. Maybe a croissant.”

 

            He turned away from her and stared out onto the street. “Surprise me.”

 

            Rey fought the urge to clasp a hand to his shoulder. Despite her fear of this unknown man, something about Kylo looked defeated, even a little desperate, like she was keeping him away from a threat.

 

            A search of the walk-in revealed two blueberry muffins and a chocolate-chip cookie, individually wrapped. When she returned to the café, Kylo hadn’t moved. He hadn’t even taken off his coat. Pandora changed to Of Monsters and Men. He sighed.

 

            She returned back to the kitchen, got out a clean plate for the cookie, and put it in the microwave.

 

            Kylo still didn’t budge as she approached the table, but jumped when she slid the cookie across to him. He looked up at her and raised his eyebrows.

 

            Rey shrugged. “You look like you could use it.”

 

            He looked down at the cookie like he had never seen one before. “Thank you,” he said, soft and unsure.

 

            Kylo removed his black leather gloves, revealing nails bitten to the nub. Rey winced. She had the same habit, and the abrasive cleaners the Outpost and Jabba’s Pizza both used gave her constant hangnails.

 

            She rocked back and forth on her feet. “Long night?” she offered.

 

            Kylo pulled apart the cookie into tiny pieces. “Yes,” he said to the plate. “I didn’t sleep.” He popped one piece in his mouth. _I didn’t sleep_ , like it was normal, like it was nothing.

 

            Rey tugged on where her _Keep Galactic Weird_ shirt was tucked into her jeans. “No Armitage, huh?”

 

            Kylo’s lips parted, like he was going to say something, but all he did was look away from her, out the window.

 

            She cleared her throat. “What do you guys do for work?”

 

            “We manage First Order Ventures in Coruscant,” he replied, and ate another piece of cookie. A small spot of chocolate was stuck to the corner of his mouth. Rey wanted to wipe it off with her thumb. “I am the CRO.”

 

            “Oh. Sounds interesting,” she said. The only part that she understood was “Coruscant.” Finn. Finn was coming into the Outpost at ten AM today.

 

            And in that moment Rey made a vehement promise to herself that she would not tell Finn or Poe that this had happened.

 

            Kylo tilted his head. “It’s very long and involved work, Rey.” He looked down at the cookie again. Rey felt her face grow hot; he remembered her name. “And it requires sleepless nights.”

 

            When he looked up at her again with that blank, intense stare, she took a step back. “But tell me,” he said, “why are you all alone here?”

 

            _The camera_ , Rey remembered, _the camera will catch it if he tries anything._ She tried to keep her voice light. “I’m the opener today.” She gestured at the café with a thin smile. “It’s a one-woman job.”

 

            Kylo folded his hands again, rested them on the table. He had only gotten halfway through the cookie. “Do you enjoy it?”

 

            “Huh?”

 

            “Do you enjoy it.” He enunciated every syllable. “Working here. Alone.”

 

            “I’m not alone,” she said quietly.

 

            Kylo’s mouth twitched up at the corners. “Of course not. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

 

            Rey took another step back, tried her best to meet his stare with equal intensity. Kylo tilted his head again, and she took that to mean she was succeeding. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s work, you know.”

 

            Kylo’s eyes slid down to the table, though he continued to face her. Rey put her hands on her hips. Pandora switched back to Iron and Wine.

 

            “May I have a coffee?” he said finally.

 

            Rey exhaled. “Sure.” She unclenched her fists. “The usual?”

 

            “Please.”

 

            While she pulled three espresso shots, she looked up and saw Kylo eating the rest of the cookie.

 

* * *

 

            The day proceeded as normal. Kylo ended up leaving the Outpost at eight AM. Armitage came in at nine AM and ordered a large French Vanilla latte for himself, and a large dry three-shot soy cappuccino for Kylo. Mala and Rey switched places: Mala at the register, Rey at the espresso bar, all for this one order. It was routine now.

 

            “Good morning, lady.” Armitage nodded and smiled at her. Rey kept her head down. “And how is Jakku this morning?”

 

            “Same as always.” She steamed the soy milk and pretended that she hadn’t done this same task about five hours ago, when the sun was still down.

            Armitage peered over the machine at her handiwork. “No liquid, now. You understand?”

 

            She did understand.

 

            Poe swung by for lunch. The three of them huddled at a table over breakfast burritos and made plans to go to the D’Qar Christmas tree lighting near Poe’s apartment. BB8 slept under the table with her head on Rey’s orange sneakers.

 

* * *

 

            When Rey came back to the apartment after her courier shift at Jabba’s, all of her roommates were gone. A note was on the table from Jessika: _Group date :) We’re crashing at Buck’s place. Be back tmw morning! xx_

She tossed it back onto the table and walked to her room. Out of habit, she closed and locked the door behind her.

 

            From her underwear drawer, she withdrew a rabbit vibrator and a bottle of lubricant. The pink silicone felt firm and warm in her hand. Rey turned it over in her hands.

 

            She wiggled out of her jeans and boy shorts. She dug out a white towel from the storage bin under her bed and laid it across her sheets. She turned off the lights.

 

            Rey took her time preparing, applied a generous amount of lube to her fingers and coated herself with it. Her hand reached up to cup her breast. When she turned on the vibrator and finally pressed it against her clit, she gasped, hips bucking up to meet the toy. She slipped her hand under her bra, tweaked her nipple.

 

            She tried to remember what Finn’s mouth felt like on her chest, tried to remember the way his muscular back had looked when he moved down her body. Her hips set an even rhythm against the toy. The Finn in her thoughts moved down her body, between her legs, where he latched onto her clit and sucked.

 

            Rey sighed his name and moved the toy out of the way, removed her hand from her breast. She slid a finger inside herself, crooked it. Her hands were so much more slender than Finn’s, but with her eyes closed she could see him staring up at her reverently while he licked and nipped at her.

 

            She added a second finger. _Rey_ , said Finn against her clit. “Finn,” she said back. Rey reached for the lube again.

 

            But in the pause between opening the cap and coating the toy, she remembered Poe laughing when Finn made a joke about BB8, and froze. What was she _doing_? Finn wasn’t hers anymore. She stared at the toy, still buzzing away in her palm.

 

            _Rey_ , said a voice, soft, curling around her mind like smoke. _Rey…_

 

            She ran the edge of the toy against herself, once, twice, then pressed it to her entrance. This time, when she closed her eyes, she imagined Kylo.

 

            She tilted her head back as she pressed the toy forward. There was a slight burn, and Kylo pressed his lips to her neck. _Relax_ , he whispered, and he was the voice from earlier.

 

            “Please,” she whispered back. She slipped the toy into herself in increments, sliding it back and forth. Kylo was holding herself back for her; in her mind’s eye she saw the sweat beading on his forehead, those curls falling down from his head and dangling over his eyes.

 

            With a final push, the toy was inside her, the head of the rabbit resting against her clit. Her mouth fell open. Each slide of silicone was _Kylo, Kylo, Kylo_ , those eyes boring into hers as they moved together. She grit her teeth and ground down onto the toy, squirming against the bed. Kylo growled and flipped her over, and they were in the Outpost before morning, and he was bending her over the counter and fucking her in full view of the security camera, those gloved hands at her clit while her hands scrabbled against the wooden counter and she gasped _Kylo, Kylo._ She could smell him, feel the warmth of his broad chest at her back.

 

            _Don’t be afraid_ , he whispered in her ear. Rey felt her orgasm building and forced herself still, the toy held against a spot that made her legs shake. _You’re not alone_.

 

            Her eyes fluttered shut, and she came.

 

            In the sudden stillness of her room, she whispered, “Thank you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all your support! ^w^
> 
> 8/4: Chapter uploaded.

            Rey didn’t look up as Kylo and Armitage huddled next to the espresso bar and talked in low voices. Seeing Kylo walk into the Outpost, watching Finn taking orders at the register, filled her with an odd, personal sort of disgust. Both men glowed in her mind after last night, and she wondered if either of them noticed the blush on her cheeks. She passed the drinks to Armitage and Kylo without looking up.

 

            After closing, while Rey mopped the floors, Finn paused in putting chairs on the tables. “Everything okay?” he asked. He reached out and rubbed her back in soothing circles.

 

            Rey leaned on the mop and gave him her best smile. “Yeah, fine.”

 

            He turned his head, gave her a sideways look. “You’ve been quiet.”

 

            The image of Kylo eating alone at four AM mingled with the fantasy of Finn between her legs. She opened her mouth, closed it. “No, it’s nothing,” she said, then added, “Something weird happened at Jabba’s.”

 

            Finn's eyes widened. "Oh." He went back to stacking chairs. Rey exhaled and sagged against the mop. He looked over his shoulder at her with a smile. “I can do weird.”

 

            She dipped the mop back in the bucket. “Some old guy hitting on me after I gave him his calzone. Told me he’d whisk me away to Cancun. Can you believe?”

 

            Finn threw his head back and laughed. He walked over to the counter for his phone. While he thumbed through Pandora, he said, “ _I’d_ take you to Cancun, peanut.”

 

            “I thought you’d be taking Poe.” Her tone was sharper than she intended.

 

            Finn looked up from the screen with confusion in his eyes. Rey wanted to slap herself for being so rude. “Of course I’d take Poe,” he said softly. “I’d take the both of you.”

 

            The anger from the past month welled up in her. She shoved the mop against the wood floor. “Yeah? Would I be your third wheel, Finn?”

 

            “Hey.” She heard a clatter as he dropped his phone on the counter. Rey kept scrubbing at the same spot on the floor as her chest became tight and her eyes burned. She was sure she’d put a hole straight through the Outpost into the ground.

 

            Finn’s fingers brushed her shoulder and she shrugged them off. He took a few steps back, mouth slightly open.

 

            Rey rubbed the heel of her hand against her eye. “No, it’s fine, Finn. You’ve got a boyfriend.”

 

            “Rey, what’s going on?”

 

            “Nothing!” Her voice cracked. The mop fell to the floor. She stared at it, tears welling in her eyes. Her hands were trembling. “Nothing. I…”

 

            “Hey. Hey.”

 

            She felt Finn gather her in his arms and that was it, she started to hiccup and cry. How could she possibly tell him about Kylo, about him, about the empty ache in her gut? How could Finn possibly understand how desperate she felt? He got to go home to his own family, his nice job in Sanitation in Coruscant across the river, and all she had was the vibrator and her shitty apartment and two minimum-wage jobs to distract her from feeling so _alone_. Rey pressed her face into Finn’s shirt.

 

            “Peanut.” Finn’s voice was sad and fond as he whispered against her hair and rocked her back and forth. “Poe and I love you. You know that.”

 

            “I _don’t_ know,” she gasped, “I don’t.”

 

            “Yes you _do_.” He held her at a distance, two strong hands on her shoulders. “We’re going to the Christmas tree lighting tomorrow. It’s going to be _fun_. There’s not gonna be any cappuccinos, or trips to Cancun with Calzone Guy.” Rey giggled through her tears, and he chucked her under the chin. “Just you, me, Poe, and BB8. And a _lot_ of beer in Poe’s house. Okay?”

           

            “Okay,” she murmured.

 

            Finn guided her head to his chest, held her there. She closed her eyes and listened to his heartbeat.

 

* * *

 

            The sexual fantasies about Kylo became frequent and intense. Rey kept a hand over her mouth to keep her roommates from hearing as she touched herself to violence: broad hands spanking her bare ass, getting cornered in the walk-in fridge at the Outpost during the lunch rush, biting his neck and drawing blood while he thrust into her. Every orgasm left her feeling empty afterwards.

 

            One afternoon she fell asleep on the couch and dreamt about waking up in a bed. Next to her was Kylo, nude and asleep, but when she turned to her other side, he was there, in double. Sitting up revealed dozens of Kylo clones, sleeping next to each other across an endless expanse of white sheets. One of them wore a black mask.

 

* * *

           

            Maz looked small inside the hospital bed. Her eyes had gone as grey and thin as the remaining hairs on her head. Rey held her breath as she approached her. The room smelt like nothing: a terrible absence.

 

            The older woman, her adoptive mother, her only family, looked up and smiled. She reached out. Rey took her hand.

 

            “You’re so beautiful,” whispered Maz. She coughed and repeated herself, emphasizing every word with a shake of Rey’s hand. “You’re so _beautiful_.”

 

            Rey sniffled, staring hard at the faded floral print on Maz’s hospital gown.

 

            “Don’t cry, child.” Maz rubbed her thumb across the back of Rey’s hand. They sat in silence for a half an hour before Rey got up to go.

 

            “I love you, Maz.”

 

            “I love you. Always.”

 

            Rey kissed Maz’s forehead. It felt like paper. Maz’s eyes fluttered shut.

 

            She walked to the door.

 

            “Rey?”

 

            Rey turned around, one hand on the doorframe. Maz had closed her eyes again, was leaning back into the hospital pillows. Rey made a mental note to ask the nurse at the front desk for more pillows.

 

            Maz said, “Will you close the door for me?”

 

            Rey did. She remembered to ask for more pillows for Maz. She spent the rest of the day in a Starbucks near the hospital, then rode the train back to Jakku when it got dark. She did her homework. She went to sleep.

 

            Maz died that night.

 

* * *

 

            “Bee-bee,” said Poe, “Fridge.”

 

            BB8 trotted to Poe’s refrigerator and latched onto a purple rope tied to the door handle. She tugged, and the fridge swung open. BB8 pushed the door out of Poe’s way with her nose while Poe wheeled over to get two beers. She nudged it shut while Poe returned to the couch. Rey clapped her hands and accepted the beer.

 

            “Thanks.”

 

            “Hey, don’t mention it.” Poe gave her a half-smile as he rooted around a saddle bag off his wheelchair. He withdrew a Swiss Army knife and, with a flick of his thumb, revealed a bottle opener. Finn was outside on a phone call from Sanitation. Poe reached over and opened Rey’s bottle for her with a _crack_. The bottle’s label read “KRAYT DRAGON PALE ALE.” It tasted like tea. BB8 jumped onto the couch and curled up next to Rey.

 

            Poe aimed a disposable camera at Rey while she took another swig of beer. “Smile.”

 

            Rey tilted her head and gave the lens a toothy grin. BB8 rested her cheek on Rey’s thigh. A hockey game played on mute on Poe’s television: the Galactic Sarlaccs vs the Hoth Wampas. The Christmas tree lighting was in two hours, and the three of them had decided to get together at Poe’s place in D’Qar before walking over.

 

            Poe leaned forward in his wheelchair and focused on the game. “How’s work, Rey?” he asked.

 

            Rey picked at the bottle's labe. “Same as always,” she mumbled. “I’m so tired.”

 

            This made Poe look at her. When Rey looked up to meet his eyes, she held her breath at the concern in his face.

 

            Poe said, “No one’s making you work two jobs, Rey.”

 

            “I mean, my rent is making me work two jobs."

 

            Poe winced and reached out to rub Rey’s shoulder, just like Finn liked to do. The thought that he learned that from his boyfriend made a bolt go through Rey’s body. “Hey," he said. "I can shake the tree a little, try to find something better for you.” He perked up. “Say. Why don’t you become my flight attendant?”

 

            Rey felt a smile break across her face at that. Poe punched her shoulder.

 

            “I mean it,” he continued. “A pretty girl like you? Everyone will be falling all over themselves to get complimentary pretzels from you.”

 

            Rey covered her face and giggled. On-screen, the Galactic Sarlaccs scored a goal. Poe hissed, “Yes!” and pumped his fist, then returned his attention to her.

 

            “You like planes, right?”

 

            Rey continued picking at the label. A rip went through the drawing of the Krayt Dragon on the paper. She looked up at Poe, who was giving her a soft smile. “I’ve never been a commercial aviation girl. But,” she continued, looking down at the drowsing BB8, “I’ve never even been on a plane. A job in aviation can—“

 

            “…Get your foot in the industry door,” Poe finished for her. “Who knows? You might even find your soulmate on a flight, huh?”

 

            Rey froze. “I don’t…” She put the bottle down on the coffee table, rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t have one.”

 

            Poe leaned back in his wheelchair. “I’m so sorry.”

 

            “No, I mean…” Rey took a deep breath. “I _do_ , but I don’t think he’s alive anymore.”

 

            “How do you know?” Poe’s voice was soft.

 

            “I looked him up. He, um.”

 

            Poe took her hand. His palm was calloused. Rey took another shuddering breath and felt something loosen in her. “He was kidnapped back in the 90s,” she said. “I wasn’t even in kindergarten when it happened. He's probably dead.”

 

            Poe squeezed her hand and said nothing for a while. Rey stared at the lokai bracelet on his wrist. BB8 snuffled in her sleep.

 

            Rey said, “Poe, did you dream about Finn before you met him?” The second the question left her mouth, she regretted it. “I’m sorry, that’s so personal.”

 

            But all Poe did was release her hand and pat her on the back. “No problem. I kind of had an idea in my mind of what he might look like.” Poe inclined his head towards the porch, where Finn had finished his phone call and was now fiddling with the touch screen. “But nothing set me up for what he’s actually like. I think I like it better that way.” He gave her the half-smile again, the rogueish tilt to his mouth that Rey imagined had Finn falling all over him. Even _she_ felt flustered looking at him.

 

            “Did you look him up on Facebook?”

 

            “Everyone does that!” Poe laughed and drank his beer. “How can you not? That’s what Facebook is for: Soulmate-searching. There are a few other Finn Stormes out there. Once I saw _him_ , though, I thought…” He poked at the air with the beer bottle. “ _That’s_ the one I want. Please God, let me have him.”

 

            Rey leaned back against the couch and watched the game, not really paying any attention to it. "He's handsome, all right."

 

            Poe said, “He still loves you, you know. Even though we’re together, you’re always welcome here.”

 

            “Yeah.” Rey pressed her lips together. Her beer was still mostly full. She’d have to change that.

 

            Poe leaned over and extended a pinky. “You promise?” he said with mock-seriousness.

 

            Rey smiled and rolled her eyes. She latched her pinky onto Poe’s. “Promise.” She hoped she actually meant it.

 

* * *

 

            The delivery was the farthest Rey had ever been: through Jakku, north through Tatooine, across the river to Coruscant. It was going to be a long bike ride. Rey strapped the pizzas to the back of her bike and got going.

 

            It was the beginning of December, and Rey pedaled through neighborhoods decorated with Christmas lights, past dirty snowdrifts on the sidewalks. Jakku bled into Tattooine, then Rey was hurtling past triple-deckers and teenagers smoking on the curb. Her scarf trapped her breath against her goggles. Five minutes later, Tatooine became the fancy brownstones and well-tended gardens of the Naboo neighborhood. Before long she found herself crossing the Corellian bridge across the Core River. The lights of Galactic bounced off of the black water like starlight. Rey dodged through the late-night traffic.

 

            The industrial skyscrapers of Coruscant mingled with the smaller brick dorms and well-tended lawns of Coruscant University. Rey slowed down and pulled her scarf off of her face. _This is where Finn went to school_ , she thought as she gazed at the famous golden dome of the university's business school. There was a statue of Lor San Tekka, the academic, in the middle of the building's steps. He held a book in one arm and pointed towards the heavens with his free hand. She couldn’t read the inscription from the road.

 

            Rey continued through Coruscant, towards the Biotech District, until she reached 1101 Eclipse Square. She had to crane her head to see towards the top of the mirrored skyscraper. There was a _doorman_ here. She inhaled sharply.

 

            She locked her bike across the street, untied the pizzas. Rey was mentally steeling herself to explain her task to the doorman when he wordlessly stepped aside and opened the door for her. Rey didn’t have a chance to thank him before he stepped back outside and the heavy glass door swung shut behind her.

 

            The lobby of 1101 Eclipse Square was covered in gold, with a white marble floor underneath her sneakers. Even though the lobby was empty, Rey kept her head down and pushed on towards the elevators. She had instructions to go to the 49th floor.

 

            Rey felt her ears pop as the elevator ascended to the top of the building. She felt like she was in a hotel. She clutched the cooling pizza boxes. Did real people live here? The elevator was mirrored; Rey’s apprehension reflected back to her _ad infinitum_.

 

            The doors slid open to reveal a dim gray hallway. Rey’s steps were muffled in the black carpet as she walked the endless stretch to door 4910. The distance between each apartment door was easily twice the length of the Outpost.

 

            She knocked on the door.

 

            “One minute,” came a familiar voice from the other side: accented, tight around the edges.

 

            _Armitage?_

 

            The door swung open. Armitage looked down at her with raised eyebrows. Rey took a moment to take in his black long-sleeved shirt, the black sweatpants. Even in casual wear, he still puffed his chest out and stood proud.

 

            “What a pleasant surprise,” he said. He flashed his teeth in a facsimile of a smile. Rey swallowed. In the background, she heard the television. She smelled cigarettes.

 

            “Hi, Armitage.” After a beat she remembered what she had come here for and thrust the food and his receipt towards him. “Just, um. Just sign here.”

 

            Armitage clapped his hands together. “Ah, of course. Let me fetch a pen.”

 

            He took the receipt from off the top of the pizza box and leaned to the side, and that’s when Rey looked through an interior doorway and saw Kylo lounging on a couch, wearing nothing but his boxers. He didn’t even look her way as he lazily puffed on a cigarette and stared off into the distance. There were bruises— _hickeys_ —on his neck.

 

            Rey’s throat closed. She worked her mouth, found she couldn’t get anything out. Time slowed down. Kylo tilted his head and blew smoke into the air. His right leg was bent at the knee, the boxers rucking up to expose a pale expanse of thigh.

 

            “There we are,” said Armitage. He turned back to her with the receipt, a gold pen in his left hand, and Kylo was obscured from view again. Armitage’s smile fell when he saw her expression. “Something the matter?”

 

            “I, uh. No!” Rey caught herself and shook her head, but yes, there was something wrong, the hallway felt so warm and suddenly she was hyper-aware of how she smelled like kitchen grease and bike oil and city smog, how her jeans had stains on them and her shirt didn’t fit right and oh, oh, _there_ were the tears, burning in her eyes and threatening to fall, but she snatched the receipt from Armitage’s hand and kept her head down so he wouldn’t see her cheeks turning red. “Have a good night.”

 

            “We’ll see you tomorrow,” Armitage said, and Rey could hear the smirk in his voice. The door closed in her face. The cigarette smoke lingered in her nose. Her ears were ringing.

 

            Rey barely made it to the elevator. She leaned against the mirrors and stared at her own haggard face in the doors. _Ugly girl_ , she thought, prompted by nothing, and she watched her face crumple as she began to cry.

 

            She should have known. _We’ll see you tomorrow._ Was it her, or did Armitage emphasize “we?” How could she have been so stupid? The way they moved together, were always whispering. They weren’t just coworkers, they were a _couple_. Armitage somehow caught on and sought to put her in her place. She looked down at the receipt. He had given her a generous tip; in her mind, she heard him whisper,  _Keep quiet about this._

 

            The elevator pinged. Rey stumbled out of the lobby into the night. She didn’t look both ways before crossing the street, and a car swerved to avoid her. The driver blared their horn.

 

            Rey fell to her knees on the sidewalk and put her face in her hands.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so overwhelmed by all of the attention this is getting. THANK YOU. Thank you thank you thank you. <3
> 
> 8/10: Chapter uploaded.

            Rey did something she hadn’t done in over a year: she called in sick.

 

            She spent the morning under the covers with her bedroom door locked.Somewhere around eleven AM, she got up to pee and force down some toast and a banana, and after that it was straight back to bed until her phone rang at three.

 

            “Hey, peanut.” Finn’s voice was gentle on the other end of the phone. “You sick today?”

 

            “Just some food poisoning.” Rey jumped at the sound of her own voice; it was ragged with disuse. “We’ve got this new cook at Jabba’s, this young kid. I think he undercooked my chicken parm.”

 

            “Want me to come over?”

 

            Rey moved the phone from her ear and stared at the ceiling. The _last_ thing she wanted was anyone seeing her. In fact, if she was lucky, she would become a part of the bed forever. She lifted the phone again. “Sure, if you want. I mean, don’t you have work?”

 

            Finn’s voice had an amused lilt to it. “I’ve got time to kill for you, Rey.”

 

            That made her smile, briefly, before her face fell again. “Bring some crackers, won’t you?” Food wasn't an option. Even thinking about Finn’s chicken noodle soup, her favorite winter meal, made her want to hurl.

 

            They said their goodbyes and Rey, after some deliberation, tucked the phone under her pillow. She pulled the covers back over her head and went to sleep.

 

            At four, she heard the front door swing open and Jessika say, “Hey, Finn!” She added, in a surprised tone, “Dog!” Soon after, there was a knock on her bedroom door.

 

            “Rey?”

 

            Getting out of bed was a monumental task. She dragged her legs out from under the covers, planted her feet on the carpet, and pushed herself to her feet. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she plodded to the door and unlocked it.

 

            Finn, as promised, was standing on the other side with two boxes of saltines and a bottle of ginger ale. He smiled. Poe stuck his head out from around Finn and waved. BB8 snuffled at Finn’s hands.

 

            Rey cracked a smile. She looked a mess, with her terry shorts and stained _JAKKU HIGH CLASS OF 2014_ shirt. “Hi.” She coughed. “Don’t you guys have work?”

 

            “Don’t start till five,” Finn said, just as Poe said, “Flight tomorrow morning at ten.” BB8 _woo_ -ed.

 

            “Wasn’t the elevator cramped?” Another excuse.

 

            Poe shrugged. “No one minded.”

 

            She gathered her hair into a topknot, let it loose again. She took the crackers and ginger ale from Finn’s outstretched hands. “Thanks.”

 

            Finn leaned over and kissed her forehead. “You look green. Go back to sleep.”

 

            _I got my heart broken twice in a row,_ Rey almost said, but instead she wrinkled her nose and tried to smile. As Finn walked to the apartment entrance, Poe shot a finger gun at her. “Doctor’s orders,” he said with a lopsided grin.

 

            She shut her bedroom door again and locked it. For a long while she stared at the crackers and ginger ale in her hands. Guilt twisted her stomach. She set them down on her desk and crawled back into bed.

 

* * *

 

            Rey dragged herself to the Outpost the next morning. Truthfully, she was overdue to do laundry, and the summery flamingo socks peeking out from her sneakers were not her first choice, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She said a tepid hello to Mala and Teedo and clocked in for her shift. To wake them up, Mala had put on the Spice Girls station on Pandora. Rey snorted when the younger girl shimmied up to her to dance between orders.

 

            Armitage and Kylo arrived at the Outpost at nine AM. Rey’s stomach fell as she automatically switched places with Mala. Both men looked as polished as always, and here she was, wearing a stained T-shirt and ripped jeans.

 

            Armitage spoke first, just as Rey was pulling the first of six espresso shots. “Hello, Rey.”

 

            Rey gritted her teeth. Armitage had never said her name before. “Hello, Armitage.” When she looked up, though, he wasn’t grinning like a cat, just smiling politely. Kylo was staring at her from behind his shoulder. The twin focus was too much, and she looked back down at her work.

 

            “Any holiday plans?” Armitage continued. His voice was as close to pleasant as Rey had ever heard. She shifted from foot to foot.

 

            “Working here,” she said, and shrugged.

 

            Armitage used his thumb to wipe off imaginary dust off of the espresso machine. Rey focused on his hand like she wanted to shoot lasers into it. “That’s no good,” he drawled. “No family plans?”

 

            _I hate you_ , Rey thought, but what came out of her mouth was, “Of course I’ll be seeing family.” She gave him a bright smile. “ _After_ my shift.”

 

            Over Armitage’s shoulder, Kylo’s mouth twitched, like he was about to say something. Armitage leaned further forward, so close Rey could smell his cologne and see the freckles on his nose.

 

            “If you’re ever in Coruscant,” Armitage whispered, “you are always welcome to visit.”

 

            Rey felt a forest fire raging through her limbs, tearing her open. She wanted to scream. “Sure,” she forced out, voice quiet. Her hands trembled as she stuck a lid on top of Armitage’s peppermint mocha. She slid it across the counter to him.

 

* * *

 

            She spent a tortuous week working her tail off to make up for her lost day. She smiled at every customer, she took an extra shift at Jabba’s, she did latte art for everyone at the Outpost for tips. Rey berated herself with every pump of her bike pedals: _Don’t do that again. You can’t be throwing a tantrum every time things don’t go your way. It’s a waste of time. Do you want to pay your electric bill or not?_ She texted Finn and Poe with the same sentence: “Sorry, busy.”

 

            _Sorry, busy._ She hadn’t even bought Christmas gifts for them yet. _Sorry, busy._ Rey struggled to keep her eyes open at work. _Sorry, busy._

 

            When her next free night came along, Rey biked into Naboo, into the small used bookstore nestled in the brownstones. The bearded old man at the desk looked up at her and smiled warmly. Rey nodded in return.

 

            She crouched down between the bookshelves in the Fiction section, breathing in the dust. Rey picked through anything that caught her eye, examining the covers closely, trying to feel if the book screamed “Finn” or “Poe.” As the night wore on, a few other customers stepped around her with whispered apologies. She stood and craned her neck to read the spines of books stacked on the top shelves. It was warm and quiet inside the store.

 

            Rey finally made it to the front with two books: one for Finn, one for Poe. After picking around at the front, she decided on matching bookmarks: magnetic cartoon Huskies.

 

            The bearded man smiled at her again as he handed her her bag. Rey nodded and whispered a “Thank you,” then pushed on into the night.

 

* * *

 

            Rey is fifteen and nosing around university websites: Coruscant University, Galactic Technical Institute, D’Qar College. She clicks on any links describing engineering programs. She chews strawberry lemonade bubble gum. It is late summer. Maz calls for her, and she closes her laptop and shouts, “Coming!” She rushes downstairs.

 

            Rey is seventeen and reading through Finn’s Coruscant University 2014-2015 course booklet. It is late summer. Finn naps on the couch while soccer plays on his mother’s TV. She sees a course in fluid dynamics in the “Engineering” section and closes the booklet, a sudden tightness in her throat.

 

            Rey is nineteen and it is winter and she is in the middle of Naboo with a flat tire on her back wheel.

 

* * *

 

 

            “Fuck!” She jumped off of her bike and dragged it onto the sidewalk. It was a clear, cold night, and Rey rubbed her gloved hands together as she kneeled to assess the damage. An initial inspection revealed nothing, but when she flipped the bike over to rest on its handlebars and seat, a gleaming object caught her eye: a nail, perched between the treads. “Fuck,” she whispered.

 

            The first time she had popped a flat, Rey had been stuck without a spare tire or a repair kit. She reached into her backpack, past the bookstore bag and a small bicycle pump, and extracted a plastic yellow box and a new tire, crumpled in a heap at the bottom. The new tire was thinner than she was used to, but it would have to do. Rey flipped open the box and dug around for a plastic hook. She jimmied the end of the hook under the flat tire, against the skeleton of the wheel, and set about prying the flat tire off of her bike. The nail resisted her, and she grit her teeth against it.

 

            “A fixed-gear.”

 

            Rey whipped around.

 

            Kylo had a leather briefcase in one hand. He was less armed against the cold than she was: nothing but the long black coat, a black scarf, and those black leather gloves protecting him. Somehow, she was the one shivering. He wasn’t looking at the bike, but at her.

 

            “You ride a fixie,” he said, and the slang sounded odd coming from him.

 

            Rey rested her hands in her lap. “Yeah,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “It feels better to me.”

 

            “It’s freezing.”

 

            “So?”

 

            “You should be inside.”

 

            “Are you my mother?”

 

            Kylo blinked and looked down. Rey’s voice was sharper than she intended. He adjusted his scarf and looked down the street, mouth opening to say something. He closed it, opened it again. “Do you need help?” he said.

 

            Rey held his gaze for a beat, then looked back to her bike. She continued working the tire off of the wheel. Her cheeks felt hot. “No thanks,” she muttered.

 

            As the tire popped off, she heard a rustling, and then Kylo was right next to her, kneeling on the sidewalk. His hands were gentle as he pressed on the front tire, checking its pressure. Rey watched his thumb as it prodded along the treads.

 

            “Your front tire is unscathed.” He emphasized the last couple of letters, teeth clicking around the _–ed_. Kylo’s hands hovered over the chain in the middle of the bike. “When was this oiled last?”

 

            The way he brushed his fingers against the chain guard, so gentle, made a hot, possessive anger flare up in her gut. She ripped the tag off of her new tire with more force than necessary. “So you’re a coffee expert _and_ a bike expert now?”

 

            She saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. “My father loved bicycles.”

 

            Rey forced herself to focus on the tire as she wiggled it onto the skeleton. Her fingers were going numb. “Loved?”

 

            “He is dearly departed.”

 

            _You talk like an alien_ , she thought. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

 

            “Thank you.” He finally went quiet as she adjusted the tire and went back into her backpack for the pump. A few cars rumbled by. Rey paused after connecting the hose and pulled her scarf back over her mouth. She stood and began pumping air into the tire.

 

            Kylo spoke again. “May I treat you to drinks?”

 

            Rey dropped the pump handle; it hissed as it crawled to the base of the pump. She didn’t dare look up at him, instead staring at the fresh tire like it had just spat at her. “What?”

 

            Out of the corner of her eye she saw Kylo shake himself. “I would like to get to know you better.” Like he was talking from a script. Rey felt like she would float off the ground. “Are you free on Friday night?”

 

            “Where is this coming from?” she whispered.

 

            Kylo rubbed his thumb against the chain guard and ignored her question. The city had gone quiet, like it was awaiting her response.

 

            “I don’t work that night,” she said. Her throat felt hoarse. She rubbed her palms against her leggings.

 

            He looked up at her again, and the fire was back in his eyes. Rey swallowed. “I will pick you up at home, then. We will leave at six.” He looked back at the chain guard. “I trust that works for you.”

 

            “Can we do seven?” she blurted. “I’ve…I have to change after I get home from the Outpost.”

 

            Kylo rose to his feet. “Seven is fine.” He rooted around in the front pocket of his briefcase and produced a business card. Rey took it. It read, in plain black font:

 

FIRST ORDER VENTURES

_Kylo Ren_

_Chief Revenue Officer_

_kren@firstorder.ven_

 

            At the bottom was a phone number with a Galactic area code.

 

            “Call that number a half hour before you wish to leave.” Kylo stuck his hands in his pockets, staring at the card with her. “We will have to allow for traffic.”

 

            “Your business card,” Rey said. “You’re giving me a _business card_.”

 

            “It is my personal number,” Kylo replied. “I only give this card to people I trust. The other,” and here he produced a second card from a separate pocket, “is for clients.”

 

            The second card was of a thicker cardstock and was more decorated, with the First Order logo on the right-hand side. Rey turned it over in her hands and handed it back to him.

 

            “Where are we going?” she asked. She was about to tell him that she couldn’t drink, but then bit the comment back. She didn’t want to look like a little kid.

 

            Kylo smiled, and Rey realized it was the first time she had seen him do so. “You’ll see.”

 

* * *

  

            The next day at the Outpost, Kylo left a soft cloth bag on the counter and gave her a meaningful look before he and Armitage walked off to sit at their table. Inside was a bottle of bicycle chain grease and two new tires, the correct size for her bike. Rey stared at the gifts, trying not to tear up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting, everyone!
> 
> 8/19: Chapter uploaded. Fixed some minor errors.  
> 8/25: Corrected "soul mate" to "soulmate."

            Rey paid extra for Forever 21 to ship the white dress overnight. Her black flats were old and a little scuffed, but after paying for the dress, she was left without financial wiggle room. She leaned towards the mirror and dabbed drugstore concealer under her eyes with her fingertips.

 

            This was her first date. Of course, her and Finn had gone on dates together, but that was after Finn had spent years with her. This was a _first_ date, like jumping off of a cliff into waters of unknown depth. She had to blow dust off of her makeup case and make sure her mascara wasn’t expired before she dolled herself up for God-knows-what.

 

            Rey pulled out a pan of brown eyeshadow and examined it. After she had gotten home from the bookstore, after Kylo had asked her out, she had looked him up online. Forbes listed him as a “Forty Under 40,” which Rey took to mean “really fucking rich;” his net worth was somewhere around nine figures, and First Order Ventures made the news as having kickstarted a billion-dollar biotech company. She tried reading the biotech company’s website and gave up three sentences in.

 

            She put the eyeshadow back in the case and decided her mascara would be fine on its own. She found a tube of pink lipstick and unrolled it. Rey was no Armitage: her dress cost twenty-five dollars, she worked two food service jobs, and she didn’t know the first thing about “novel cancer therapies.” But didn’t Kylo see something in her, in her beat-up sneakers and her denim cap and her stubby fingernails? As she ran a hand through her hair, she felt a vindictive spark at beating out the redhead for Kylo’s affections. Some part of her wanted to run into Armitage at the bar Kylo was taking her to, to see his face twist at seeing Kylo with the girl from the Outpost.

 

            “You look good,” Jessika said as Rey exited the bathroom. “Where are you going?”

 

            “Out,” Rey said, and walked into her bedroom to retrieve Kylo’s business card.

 

* * *

 

            Rey rubbed mud off of her face as her classmates laughed at her.

 

            “Scavenger!” screamed a girl near the back.

 

            “Like you even have a soulmate,” sneered a boy. “Who would want _you_?”

 

            “Shut up,” Rey mumbled. She spat out a clod of dirt. “I have a soulmate. His name is Ben and he loves me.”

 

            “Liar! Your parents didn’t even want you!”

 

            “Shut _up_!” Rey turned and whipped a handful of mud at the boy. As if in slow-motion, she watched his face fall upon seeing the mud hurtling towards his face. It connected, and Rey cackled as the boy toppled over. He began to cry.

           

            Rey got detention and had to wait for Maz to pick her up. The older woman’s face was drawn tight as she saw her adoptive daughter curled up in a plastic chair by the principal’s office.

 

            “Rey,” she said, voice gentle, and Rey cringed. “What was that for?”

 

            “He called me a scavenger,” Rey said. Her throat tightened, and tears welled up in her eyes. “He said my parents don’t love me, and that I don’t have a soulmate, and…” And there went the tears, and Rey let out a ragged sob and pressed her fists to her eyes.

 

            Maz helped her out of the chair and held her close. Rey heard the principal’s door open as she cried into Maz’s chest.

 

            The principal’s voice was gentle. “Ms. Kanata,” he said. “Rey doesn’t seem to get along very well with her classmates.”

 

            “They hate me,” Rey wailed. Maz hushed her and patted her back.

 

            The principal walked forward and crouched to Rey’s level. “We’re going to move you to Finn’s homeroom so you have your friend with you in class. We’ll also assign him to your lunch table. Would you like that, Rey?”

           

            “That would be best,” Maz said. Her voice was firm, even as she rocked Rey back and forth. “I won’t have my daughter’s confidence destroyed.”

 

            Rey squeezed Maz. Maz squeezed her back. After the principal dismissed them, they went out to ice cream.

  

* * *

 

 

            Rey sat on her front steps in her black coat, picking at a loose thread on the hem of her dress. A low rumble came from the street in front of her. When she looked up, she saw Kylo emerge from a black Tesla. She sucked in a breath at the sight of the sleek car.

 

            He stuck his hands in his pockets and watched her from the other side of the car as she stood and walked over. His eyes raked over her body, from her flats to her face.

 

            “Hi,” she said.

 

            “Are you ready?”

 

            Rey reached for the passenger door handle, but before she could open the door for herself, Kylo rushed over and opened it for her. The inside was warm and dark and smelled of leather.

 

            Rey slid into the passenger seat, felt herself melt into the soft cushions. The door shut behind her, and after a moment, Kylo got into the driver’s seat behind her. She reached out and brushed her hand against the impeccable dashboard as he revved the engine. A touch screen near the driver’s side lit up.

 

            “Do you like it?” he asked.

 

            “I love it,” she breathed. “I wish I could drive.”

 

            Kylo pulled out into the Jakku streets. He was still wearing those black leather gloves. “That can be arranged.”

 

            Rey smiled. “You want me driving your nice car?”

 

            Kylo’s mouth quirked. She leaned her head back against the seat and looked out the window.

 

* * *

 

            He helped her out of the car and handed a couple of bills to the valet. They were in the heart of Naboo. Rey felt eyes on them as they slipped past the line, towards the host. He took one look at Kylo and hopped out from behind the front desk.

 

            The host escorted them through the dimly-lit restaurant. Kylo kept his hand on her back as they walked. Everything was decorated in varying tones of silver; their shoes clicked against a black hardwood floor. Rey felt woefully underdressed next to the people in suits and gowns feasting on steaks. There was a glass fireplace in one corner.

 

            They were led into a separate, much quieter room, a lounge full of low silver armchairs and small coffee tables with candles on them. A bartender mixed in silence at a wood bar against the far wall. The host gestured towards a couple of chairs in the corner.

 

            Kylo shook off his coat and scarf, revealing a casual black suit like the ones he wore to work. He silently reached out a hand towards Rey; she stared at it until she realized he was taking her coat, too. She scrambled out of it and handed it to Kylo, who handed it to the host. The host bowed and left.

 

            “Thank you,” she called out after him, but he didn’t respond. When she looked back to Kylo for help, he was still standing.

 

            “What are you drinking?” he asked.

 

            Rey’s heart fell. Surely she would be carded? She didn’t look _that_ old. But Kylo was staring at her expectantly and she said the first thing that came to mind: “Vodka cranberry.”

 

            He walked past her to the bar. Almost immediately, the bartender rushed over, and Kylo spoke in low tones to him. The bartender didn’t even look at her as he started working. Before long, Kylo came back with a stout in one hand and a red drink in the other. Rey took the vodka cranberry and held it close to her chest, feeling enormously stupid as she watched Kylo take a sip of stout. She could have gone for a beer, instead of trying to make herself seem sophisticated.

 

            “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the chairs.

 

            Rey settled in and took another look around the room, lingering on an older woman laughing and touching her husband’s arm. The vodka cranberry was sweet and strong on her tongue.

 

            “What’s wrong?”

 

            Kylo’s tone was plaintive. She looked back at him to see him leaning towards her. “Nothing,” she said. She took a gulp of her vodka cranberry, immediately regretted it as it burned her throat. “It’s very nice here.”

 

            Kylo folded his gloved hands in front of him as he took in the scene with her. “Do you like it?”

 

            “Of course!” She set her drink down on the table and drummed her fingertips on her knee.

 

            Kylo turned his head as someone got up from the chair near them. Rey caught a glimpse of a constellation of moles on his neck. He turned back and looked down at his hands. A silence stretched in front of them.

 

            Rey spoke first. “Do you like music?”

 

            Kylo looked up at her. “Very much.” He looked down at his hands again. “Although not always what you play in the Outpost.”

 

            “Oh. I’m sorry.”

 

            “Don’t be.” He spread his hands. “My music tastes are different.”

 

            Rey raised her eyebrows. “Try me.”

 

            Kylo stared at his shoes. It felt odd not having his intense gaze on her for once. Rey reached out her foot and nudged his, and he flinched. Rey drew back. “Sorry,” she said again.

 

            “Rey,” he said, “Don’t be.” She held her breath at the gentleness in his voice.

 

            He picked up his stout and took a sip. They started talking.

 

* * *

 

            Rey finished her second vodka cranberry as their charcuterie plate arrived. She reached for her purse. “What do I owe you?”

 

            A gloved hand closed around her wrist. Kylo leaned towards her. “It’s on me.”

 

            In a warm, tipsy haze, Rey heard herself say, “I’m not a charity case.” She gasped and slapped her hand across her mouth.

 

            Kylo’s face went blank. “Did I say you were?”

 

            “Oh my God,” she said, “Oh my God.” His hand felt warm and strong against her skin.

 

            Kylo tilted his head towards the table. “Eat,” he said, voice gentle. “This is for you.” He loosened his grip; as he pulled away, his hand brushed against Rey’s. She shivered.

 

* * *

 

            Rey let Kylo lead her back towards the valet. She was sated with pork belly and cheese; the alcohol was a pleasant thrum in her head. The second he saw them, the valet rushed off to retrieve the Tesla.

 

            Rey only had to rub her hands over her thin coat before Kylo was draping his across her shoulders. She looked up at him. The wool was baby-soft and smelled like him, dark and heady. “You’re going to get cold,” she said.

 

            Kylo shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. They watched the Tesla pull around the corner. “You’re not my mother.”

 

            Rey grinned and snuggled further into the coat. Kylo tipped the valet again, and Rey watched the man fall all over himself to thank him. Kylo ignored the valet and looked to her as he opened the passenger side door.

          

            Once they were securely in the car, Kylo leaned back in his seat and revved the engine. “May I take you to my apartment?”

 

            The question was so quiet Rey wasn’t sure she had heard it. She kept flipping through the touchscreen on the dashboard, looking through Kylo’s music library: Banks, FKA Twigs, The Weeknd, Massive Attack. After a few moments, Rey realized they hadn’t moved from the restaurant. “Go to…?”

 

            “Yes.” Kylo looked out of the driver’s side window. He was a mirror image of his exhausted self in the café at four AM, only now he was groomed and confident. “If you’d like.”

 

            Rey had shaved her legs, had plucked her eyebrows until tears of pain welled in her eyes. She had stressed over her underwear drawer. She had stressed over her dress. But now that the offer was on the table, she found her stomach in knots.

 

            Mixed with the fear was determination, the stuff of two months’ worth of fantasies.

 

            “Yeah,” she said, and found she was smiling.

 

* * *

 

            They followed the Corellian Run, over the Core River, through Coruscant’s biotech district, until Kylo turned a corner and Rey found herself staring up at 1101 Eclipse Square again. Rey couldn’t shake the dangerous feeling of déjà vu, even as Kylo drove the Tesla into an underground garage and the sparkling lights of the city disappeared and it struck her that _this was real_ , she was going up to unit 4910 as something other than the pizza delivery girl. Every cell in her body thrummed as he reached in to help her out of the passenger side. His hand on hers felt hyperreal: a dream on her apartment couch.

 

            He led her up a staircase and to a nondescript red door without looking back at her. In the sparkling, silent lobby, Kylo didn’t let her go. The elevator doors opened and shut behind them, and Rey was left staring at her wide-eyed expression in the mirrored doors.t

 

            Kylo’s eyes met hers in the reflection. “You’re afraid,” he said.

 

            “No,” she replied. “Just nervous.” Her ears popped as the elevator moved up through the skyscraper.

 

            His hand released hers, and his fingers alighted on her shoulders through his coat, butterfly-soft, a whisper of comfort before he was pulling back again. The elevator _dinged_ and opened. Kylo ushered her into the hallway.

 

            At his door, he pulled out his keys. Rey caught a glimpse of his keyring and grabbed his hand. “You went to CU?” Indeed, a tiny version of the Coruscant University hawk hung between the keys.

 

            He stared down at where their hands met. “Class of 2007,” he replied. “Are you attending?”

 

            She shook her head. “No,” she said, and released him. “No. I just have a friend who went.”

 

            “Shame. I would have provided a reference.” Kylo unlocked the door. This time, Rey entered the apartment with him, leaving the ghost of the pizza delivery girl alone in the hallway.

 

            The entry foyer was stark: just gray walls and dark hardwood floor. There was a black bench, underneath which lay several pairs of shoes shoes: black Nike sneakers, still laced; a pair of shiny black loafers; brown dress shoes with red insides; black slippers that looked sinfully comfortable. A tiny gold table was next to the door, immaculate save for a gold pen and a wooden bowl where Kylo placed his keys.

 

            Rey allowed him to take his coat, then hers, off of her shoulders. “Please make yourself at home,” Kylo said.

 

            She kicked off her flats near the bench and wandered into the next room. The couch she had seen Kylo smoking on was directly in view of the door, resting against a wall made entirely of windows. The cream-colored curtains were drawn; she peeled one back and sucked in a breath at the twinkling lights of Coruscant and Galactic. The living room gave way on her left to an open, immaculate kitchen. To her right was a flat-screen television, larger than one of the walls on her apartment. The shelves below it hosted a variety of films and (to her amusement) a Wii U. A coffee table had a glass ashtray (also immaculate), two copties of _Nature_ (“Can Your Immune System Cure Cancer?”), and one copy of _Wired_ (“Tech and Teaching: Inside CU’s Kenobi School of Advanced Studies.”)

 

            She turned. Kylo lingered in the doorway, watching her with his hands in his pockets. On the wall opposite the couch was a long, golden mirror over a black dresser. Its only occupant was a faded black-and-white photograph in a silver frame.

 

            Rey walked over and bent down to look at it. It was a well-dressed couple: the woman had long, curly brown hair and a shy smile. The man in it was laughing, looking up at her. His hair was shoulder-length and wavy; she caught a hint of a scar bisecting the right half of his face.

 

            “My grandparents,” Kylo said. He extracted his hands from his pockets, folded them in front of him. The gloves were finally off.

 

            “They’re beautiful.” She reached out and caressed their faces.

 

            “My grandfather founded the company,” Kylo continued. There was a soft, sad affection in his voice.

 

            Rey looked up at him, but his expression was still neutral as he watched her. “Did you meet them?”

 

            “No. They passed when I was little.”

 

            She withdrew from the photograph. “I’m sorry.”

 

            Kylo nodded and looked away.

 

            What was the etiquette for this? Rey cleared her throat. “Um.” The hardwood was cool against her bare feet. “Do we.”

 

            He looked to her.

 

            Rey gestured in the air. “Bedroom?”

 

            Kylo rested his head against the doorway. “Is that your idea of a transition?”

 

            Rey looked down, trying not to smile. “Did it work?”

 

            Kylo raised his chin. His mouth twitched. After a pause, he said, “Yes.” He pointed behind her. “That door leads to the bedroom.”

 

            The bedroom in question was no less stark than the rest of the apartment, though its plush white carpet felt soft against Rey’s bare feet. The bed was wide and solid, with plain black sheets and a black comforter. Small speakers rested atop a small black table in a corner; aside from the bedside table, it was the only other surface in the room. A black wardrobe faced the bed; atop it was a beaten-up brown teddy bear. Rey reached up towards it. Kylo watched her as she squeezed it; it smelled like dust. One of its eyes was loose; its red bowtie was worn down.

 

            “So cute,” she murmured, cuddling the bear to her chest and looking at the curtained window. It felt like home, like something Maz would give her. She closed her eyes and focused on the bear, focused on all of the nerves from tonight pouring into it like it was a talisman. This would be her first time, with someone she had fantasized about for ages. He was not Ben Solo (Ben Solo didn’t exist anymore), but the rush of excitement was as intense as if she had seen her name on Kylo’s inner thigh.

           

            When she put it back atop the wardrobe, she noticed Kylo watching her with a softness in his eyes. “Was this yours?” she asked.

 

            “It was, once,” he responded.

 

            Rey carefully arranged it so it was sitting upright and smoothed out its fur. Kylo spoke again: “Would you like the door open or closed?”

 

            “Closed.” She remembered Armitage and added, just to make sure, “Does anyone else live here?”

 

            He closed the door and brushed past her to the speakers. “No. I wanted to make you feel comfortable.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and fiddled with it. After a moment, something dark and ambient flowed out of the speakers. “Close your eyes.”

 

            Rey did.

 

            There was a clatter as Kylo set his phone down on the table. She heard soft, slow footsteps across the carpet. After a beat, warm, broad hands cupped her face. Rey’s lips parted as she leaned into his hands, letting him brush his thumbs across her skin. Even this small contact felt good, satisfying after being alone. She heard him sigh.

 

            Kylo leaned down and kissed her. His mouth was as soft as Rey imagined, his lips slightly chapped. Rey groaned and pushed up to meet him, hooked her arms around his neck. The kiss, like his voice, was deep and slow, startling in its intensity. Finn’s kiss had felt like sunshine, but Kylo’s felt like the vodka cranberry in the bar: sweet, just the slightest bit sour, intoxicating.

 

            Rey licked his bottom lip, nipped him. She heard him _snarl_ , and then his tongue was in her mouth, his hands were reaching down to squeeze her ass through the dress. Rey pulled herself closer to him, fought him back, threaded her fingers through his long hair and tried to keep tempo as the kiss became fierce.

 

            She pulled away long enough to hiss, “Yes, yes, please—“

 

            Kylo turned her around and pressed up against her back. Rey ground back and felt him, already half-hard, against her body. He curled over her, mouthed at her bare neck. She could feel the bass from the music.

 

            “Unzip me,” she breathed, “Get me out of this thing,” and Kylo didn’t waste a second, fumbling in his haste to drag the zipper down and push the dress around her waist. Those broad hands cupped her breasts through her bra, and, seemingly frustrated with the barrier, soon dove under the underwire to touch her skin.

 

            Kylo pressed his forehead to the top of her head and let out a shuddering exhale. Rey arched her back, pushed into his touch.

 

            “Eager,” Kylo muttered.

 

            “Shhh.” She reached between them. Kylo withdrew, and she unlatched her bra and tossed it to the side. It hadn’t even hit the floor before his hands were on her again. He rolled her nipples between thumb and forefinger. She used her hands to grab him by his ass and pull him against her. The two of them set up a steady tempo: him grinding against her, her pushing back to meet him, breathing in time.

 

            Kylo nipped at her neck. “How far,” he whispered, “do you want to go?”

 

            Rey shivered. He sounded broken. “All the way,” she said. “Come on.”

 

            He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the junction of her neck and shoulder. They untangled themselves. Rey shoved the dress down to her ankles, and his hand dove to her panties and rubbed her through the cloth. She pressed her thighs together to chase the burn of his touch. His forehead bumped the crown of her head again. The playlist switched songs.

 

            “Show me where,” he said, and she closed her hand over his and guided his fingers to her clit. She gasped, “Fast learner,” when he kept the rhythm she set for him. This felt somehow better than when she touched herself; he was all around her, his cologne in her nose, his cock against her lower back, his fingers now creeping under her waistband to feel her. His touch was tentative as he felt how wet she was, one finger delving into her. Kylo sucked in a breath.

           

            Rey gathered her courage and whispered, “Will you eat me out?”

 

            “Good girl, using your words,” but there was breathless excitement in his voice. He nudged her towards the bed. Rey stumbled across the carpet, drunk with pleasure, and flopped onto the bed. She sighed as she sunk into the mattress. Her feet dangled over the edge.

 

            He kneeled at the foot of the bed, reached up to pull her closer so her hips were at the edge of the bed with him. Rey pried off her soaked underwear and dropped it to the floor; there was a trail of her clothes now, leading to the bed, but Kylo was still dressed. She spread her legs and propped herself up on her elbows to watch him. He slung her legs over his shoulders.

 

            Kylo went still. His brows furrowed.

 

            Rey thought he was staring at her, drinking her in, but when he leaned in and pressed soft fingers to her soul mark, she felt a pang of guilt. 

 

            “Oh, that,” she said. The music filled the pause that followed. “We can ignore it, if you want. It’s nothing.”

 

            Kylo’s thumb ghosted across _Ben Solo_. He was holding his breath.

 

            “Come on,” she said. She tapped her heel against his shoulder. “It’s…it’s nothing. I’ve never met him.”

 

            He finally tore his eyes away from the soul mark and looked up at her. There was fire in his eyes now, more intense than the looks he gave her across the Outpost when he thought she wasn’t looking. Rey clutched the bedspread.

 

            Kylo ducked his head and licked a hot stripe over her slit. Rey’s head fell back. She huffed as his mouth latched onto her clit and he rolled his tongue over the swollen head. He moaned into her as he set a rhythm.

 

            She dug her fingers into his hair and let him work. Her thoughts narrowed down to his tongue, to his voice rumbling in his throat as he hummed against her, to his short fingernails digging into her thighs. Rey bucked her hips and moaned. When she looked down, he was watching her with dark, hooded eyes, nose pressed to the dark curls between her legs. Still staring at her, he removed one of his hands from her thigh and slid his middle finger into her.

 

            “Yes,” she hissed. “Like that.”

 

            His eyes fluttered closed. She rolled her hips against his face and he matched her with thrusts from his finger. Soon there was a second finger, and then he was curling them. Rey bit her lip and let her head thump against the bed.

 

            The playlist continued its march through its songs, and though the pleasure from Kylo’s mouth remained at a peak, Rey started to count the minutes passing. She looked down at him in a pause between songs. “Is this taking too long?” Her voice was ragged.

 

            Kylo opened his eyes. “Are you enjoying this?” She could feel his breath on her.

 

            “Yes! Yes. But is it—“

 

            “Take your time,” he replied, “I could do this all day.” The wicked grin that spread across his face sent chills racing up her spine. She smiled.

 

            “Back to work, then,” Rey said, and pushed his head down. He went willingly.

 

            She closed her eyes and let herself relax into him. He thrust his fingers into her, dragging them against her in a way that made her squeak. His mouth was a constant warm pull. Her legs began to tremble, and she dug her nails against his scalp, but he kept the same slow rhythm, almost languid as he dragged her orgasm out of her. She sighed and rocked her hips in minute increments.

 

            Rey rode out the pleasure. When the stimulation became too much, she tapped his temple. “Okay,” she said, “Okay.”

 

            He pulled his lips off of her clit and rested his chin on her belly. His mouth was wet. “Would you like me to fuck you?” he asked; the request was downright plaintive.

 

            In the afterglow of her orgasm, Rey felt more bold: “Is that even a question?”

 

            “You’re right.” He pushed himself off the ground and set her legs aside. Rey watched him stalk to the bedside table. He rooted around the drawer, extracted a condom and lubricant. Rey held her breath as he positioned himself between her legs and unbuckled his belt.

 

            Her excitement was short-lived: all he did was shove his pants and underwear down low enough to free his erection and not much else. The waistband didn’t even go further than his hips.

 

            “You’re still wearing all your clothes,” she said.

 

            He didn’t look up at her as he opened the condom and rolled it onto himself.

 

            “Let me see you," she said.

 

            “No,” he snapped.

 

            Rey jumped. She kept her voice gentle: “Are you shy?”

 

            Kylo pumped his cock with a lubed palm. He said nothing.

 

            “Kylo?”

 

            He flicked his hair out of his eyes. Rey waited for an answer, received none.

 

            “It’s sexy,” she offered. “You with all your clothes on.”

           

            His mouth twitched. He leaned forward and guided his dick to her entrance. Rey reached down and helped push the tip of him into her. He was _just_ bigger than her vibrator; she held her breath and forced herself to relax.

 

            He leaned on his elbows and rocked into her, easy thrusts that brought him deeper every time. He used his free hand to brush a thumb against her lower lip. “Yield,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

 

            Rey bit the pad of his thumb. His thrusts stuttered.

 

            “More,” she said.

 

            “Yes,” he replied, and gave her more. Rey wrapped her legs around his waist.

 

* * *

 

            When Rey emerged from the bathroom, Kylo had tucked himself back into his pants. He lounged on the bed, looking out of the sheer curtains at the city, smoking a cigarette. The music was off.

 

            Rey crawled across the sheets and lay down next to him. Without looking at her, he reached for the packet of cigarettes sitting on the bedside table and extracted one. He held it out to her.

 

            She put it between her lips. He leaned in and touched the ends of the two cigarettes together. She inhaled, coughed as the smoke entered her lungs. He turned away and resumed looking out of the window.

 

            They were silent. Rey let her cigarette burn without smoking it. She reached over his stomach to tap it against the glass ashtray.

 

            “Do you have a soul mark?” she asked.

 

            His reply was immediate: “No.” He blew smoke out of his nose.

 

            So Kylo was like Maz: one of the unmarked, destined to live life alone. Rey felt a sudden surge of affection for the quiet man laying next to her. She curled up against the pillows and took a drag of the cigarette.

 

            “If it helps, I think my soulmate is dead,” she whispered.

 

            Kylo said nothing. She continued, “He was kidnapped in the 90s. His parents are still looking for him. I wasn’t even talking yet, I was so young. I may as well not have one.”

 

            He pressed the cigarette to his lips. The tip glowed as he took another inhale. “I’m very sorry,” he said.

 

            She shrugged. “I guess it means I’m free. You know, of the system.”

 

            Another pause settled between them. Rey nudged his bicep. He turned and looked at her.

 

            “What about Armitage?” she said.

 

            “What about him?”

 

            “Aren’t you together?” She was asking this question four hours too late, she knew.

 

            “He means nothing to me.” Kylo switched the cigarette to his other hand, tapped it out without taking his eyes off of her. “It’s a mutual agreement.”

 

            “Some agreement,” Rey muttered.

 

            “I don’t care for him,” Kylo continued. “I care for you.”

 

            She should have pushed away the sick satisfaction that rose in her at that statement. _I care for you_. Rey nudged his bicep again, not able to hide the grin on her face. “Thanks.”

 

            “Do you care for me, Rey?” Kylo leaned forward, so close she could count the moles on his cheeks. “May I see you again?”

 

            “Yes.” Rey pressed herself to his side, thought back to his earlier request to fuck her: “Is that even a question?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the tracks Kylo is bumping: [1](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_xTZxcFSe4) [2](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uOsGx25HvmI) [3](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FIYhdTQBhU0) [4](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-99e4geCm2w) [5](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Twix375Me4Q) [6](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yzTuBuRdAyA)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for all your kind words on this fic. I loooove writing it and I'm glad you guys like reading it!
> 
> 8/25: Chapter uploaded.

            Kylo drove her back to her apartment. The scenery outside went from skyscrapers, to brownstones, to triple-deckers and brick apartment complexes and tiny parks. This late at night, people were hurrying home, or having one last cigarette. A block party raged n a few streets down from Rey’s building.

 

            He helped her out onto the curb, pulled her in for a soft kiss. Rey squeezed his hand as he let her go.

 

            The apartment was dark and silent when Rey let herself in. Her head spun. _He kissed you_ , she thought as she peeled off her dress and kicked off her flats. _You two slept together_ , that was the squeak of the shower faucet as she adjusted the temperature. _He cares about you,_ the slide of her pajamas on her clean skin. She brushed her teeth and tasted his mouth on her tongue.

 

            The next morning, Rey evaluated whether she walked differently after last night. _Not a virgin, not a virgin, not a virgin,_ said her bike chain as it clicked. _Not a virgin,_ said the cars beside her in the rush hour traffic. Rey locked her bike at the front of the Outpost and held her head high as she walked in.

 

            Finn was there. He looked up at the sound of the bell ringing and grinned. “Hey, peanut.”

 

            She hesitated at the door. Lorde played over the speakers. A couple of regulars bent over their oatmeal at their tables; they mumbled “hellos” as she passed them. From the kitchen window, Teedo threw up a hand in greeting. Everything was still normal. Rey didn't know what she expected: a glow around the world, more swagger in her step. Now she just felt small and strange.

 

            “Hey, Finn.” _Not a virgin, not a virgin._ Rey threw her backpack over the counter; Finn slid it into a cubby underneath the register. “You’re early.”

 

            “Eh. I wanted a little more tip money.”

 

            Rey let her hair down, _not a virgin_ , tied it back up, _not a virgin_ , adjusted her hat so the buns fit around it, _not a virgin._ Now it felt like an accusation. Rey felt suddenly different standing next to her best friend. She and Kylo were lost kids; Finn and Poe were soulmates and had each other. Was Finn still a virgin, like her? Rey checked the cleaning fluid in the buckets under the espresso bar.

 

            Finn ducked down to kiss her cheek; she dodged.

 

            “Oh, hey,” Finn said, voice heavy with disappointment. He reached for her arm; she dodged that, too.

 

            “I, uh. Still feeling sick.” The lie tumbled out before she could stop it.

 

            Finn held up his hands in mock surrender. The smile was back on his face, and Rey counted it as a small victory. “Don’t give me your plague.”

 

            Rey cracked a cleaning rag at him.

 

* * *

 

            As the time crept closer to nine AM, Rey snatched up Finn’s phone from underneath the register and entered “Banks” into Pandora.

 

            “Hey!” Finn shouted from the espresso bar.

 

            “I wanted to try something different,” Rey called back.

 

            “You love Lorde!”

 

            Rey tucked the phone back into its drawer. “Something different,” she repeated. The front door opened; Armitage and Kylo strode through the café. Finn and Rey switched places behind the counter. The two men were dressed more casually for the weekend: Armitage wore a thick black turtleneck, and Kylo wore a grey sweater and jeans. She peeked at Armitage from behind the espresso machine. If he had any idea about what had happened between her and Kylo last night, his smile didn’t indicate it.

 

            “A large three-shot peppermint mocha for me,” he said to Finn. Kylo looked up at the ceiling, towards the speakers; Rey felt a rush of pride.

 

            “Feeling festive?” Finn asked as he wrote the order on a cup.

 

            Armitage drummed his fingertips on the counter. “It’s Christmas next week, no? Might as well get in the mood.”

 

            Finn gave Rey a pointed look as he gave her the cup, mouthing, “Festive.” Rey giggled.

 

            Kylo was still focused on the music playing above them. The front bell rung again; BB8 held the door open for Poe. Rey poured soy milk into pitchers. Out of the corner of her eye, Rey saw Kylo dart towards the tip jar before joining Armitage at the hand-off counter. Poe wheeled himself to the front of the cash register and tapped his cheek; Finn leaned all the way over the counter to kiss it.

 

            “Good morning, Rey,” Armitage said over the espresso machine. “An early ‘merry Christmas’ to you.”

 

            “Hi, Armitage,” she murmured. When she glanced up at Kylo, the man was staring at his hands. She bit her lip and re-focused on pulling espresso shots.

 

            “Are you working on the holiday?” Armitage asked. He peered at his drink, where Rey was trying her hardest to make a latte snowman. It honestly looked a little lumpy, more "three-year-old's art piece" than "Frosty," but it was better than her previous attempts.

 

            “Are you?” Rey asked.

 

            Kylo snorted. Rey grinned. Armitage turned and glared at Kylo. When he looked back at Rey, he was all smiles.

 

            “Luckily, no,” he said sweetly. “But we have to work on the weekend to make up for it.”

 

            Rey dabbed chocolate sauce buttons on the snowman’s belly. Finn walked over and rested his head on her shoulder. She capped off the drinks; Kylo took his and walked to their usual table without another word. She craned her neck to watch him go. Poe wheeled into view behind Armitage.

 

            “Good luck,” she said to Armitage. She felt Finn smile at him against her shoulder.

 

            “Likewise,” he said.

 

            When Armitage was out of earshot, Finn hissed, “Go change out the tip jar.”

 

            “Why?” she hissed back.

 

            “Just do it. _Now._ ”

 

            Rey moved around Finn and rushed to the cash register, where the glass tip jar sat. “BEER FUND!! THANK YOU!” said the sign in front of it; a doodle of Finn pointed to the tip jar with a wide smile.

 

            Curled among the spare change and one-dollar bills was a fifty.

 

            She stared at the jar with her mouth open. “Oh my God.”

 

            When she looked up at Armitage and Kylo’s table, Kylo was staring at her with his clasped hands pressed to his mouth. This was an offering. Rey clutched the jar to her chest and stared back.

 

            Armitage leaned towards Kylo for a brief second before he turned to see who Kylo was looking at. His face crumpled with disbelief at the sight of Rey, in her stained blue T-shirt and ratty hat and black apron, _not-a-virgin_ Rey, holding the cloudy jar to her heart like it would defend her should anyone come at her for the fifty.

 

            The moment passed. Armitage shut his mouth and turned back to Kylo.

 

            Poe shouted, “Can I get some service here?”

 

* * *

 

            Hair salons, grocery stores, pharmacies, and gas stations peppered the streets of Tatooine. On the way to Jabba’s, Rey ducked into a corner store. The counter employee didn’t look up from his newspaper. She pulled her scarf down from her face.

 

            She poked around the magazine stands until she found what she was looking for: a copy of _Wired_ , hidden behind _Men’s Health_ and  _Computer World_. Kylo had had the most recent copy, the copy she now held, on his living room table. Rey grabbed a Coke from the cold drinks fridge and handed it and the magazine to the employee.

 

            All night long, the magazine burned a hole in Rey’s backpack. She tapped her foot against her pedals while she checked her phone’s clock over and over. During her final delivery, her phone buzzed; she ignored it and the customer’s holiday wishes as she raced away from his door, down the steps, out of his building to where her bike sat chained on the sidewalk. She flew back to Tatooine and shoved the signed delivery receipt into Jabba’s hands. She tripped over herself to get her bike from the back and clock out. On the way back to her Jakku apartment, Rey blew through red lights and ramped onto sidewalks to dodge cars. She jiggled her foot waiting for the apartment elevator.

 

            It was only in the safety of her dim bedroom that Rey allowed herself to pull the magazine out. She yanked off her sneakers and flopped onto her bed.

 

            The cover story: “Tech and Teaching: Inside CU’s Kenobi School of Advanced Studies,” page 28. Rey flipped through until she found it.

 

            A smiling old man, rendered in black-and-white across two glossy pages, greeted her. _How Ben “Obi-Wan” Kenobi created the future: online education for all._

 

            Rey rested her cheek on her closed fist as she paged through. Coruscant University’s Kenobi School of Advanced Studies was going completely digital beginning early 2017; although the Kenobi building would remain standing, it would only house the registration and tech support offices, along with empty classrooms for the professors to record their lectures. “Advanced Studies,” Rey mouthed. The school offered a variety of majors, but specialized in education. Ben Kenobi, the founder, had apparently been passionate about teaching and asking his students to think critically. Photos of him in different countries, in every kind of school imaginable, peppered the pages. There was Ben and a handful of grinning kids in Ghana, laughing as he lifted them into the air. There was Ben playing with blocks with two Swedish children.

 

            _Ben Kenobi passed away in 1981 after a prolonged battle with stomach cancer._ said the article. _His daughter, Hannah Kenobi, declined to be interviewed for this piece._

 

            Rey flipped the page and gasped.

 

            Ben had his arm slung over the shoulders of a younger man; the two laughed as they held up a framed certificate. The younger man had shoulder-length brown hair and a thin scar bisecting his face.

 

            _Opposite: Ben Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker gain funding for the Jedi School, now known as the Kenobi School of Advanced Studies._

It looked uncannily like Kylo’s grandfather.

 

            Rey wished she could run to 1101 Eclipse Square, rush up all forty-nine flights of stairs and unlock Kylo’s apartment and grab that photo off of the table to see if it were really true. Even so, the young man in the photo, his scar, his smile, was identical to what Rey remembered. She jumped off of her bed and dug around her room for her laptop.

 

            _Anakin Skywalker was born June 1 st, 1949, to Shmi Skywalker and an unknown father in Brooklyn, New York. He is best known as the co-founder of the Jedi School (now the Kenobi School of Advanced Studies) at Coruscant University in Galactic, Massachusetts, and the founder of Empire Ventures (now First Order Ventures)._

Rey scrolled through Wikipedia, biting her thumbnail as she read. Ben and Anakin had an unknown fallout in the late 70’s that prompted the founding of Empire Ventures. _The two did not speak again, and Kenobi died in 1981. After his death, the Jedi School was renamed the Kenobi School of Advanced Studies._

She picked up the article and flipped through. Apparently Ben and Anakin had dreamed about making education uniform for all children, and Ben had proposed something like online education before it was possible. He originally worked on launching mail-order education, where students would mail month-long projects to teachers and the teachers would mail feedback back.

 

            Rey looked at her laptop.

 

            _Skywalker is succeeded by two children: Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, born in 1962._ The links to their names were in red: no articles. Rey entered “Luke Skywalker” into Google: nothing but articles about some twenty-something British guy who had married the Eiffel tower in 2013.

 

            She checked her phone for the time and found a text from a Galactic number, sent at 11:52 PM: _Hi. You looked beautiful today. When can I see you again?_

Rey looked at her recent calls; the text was from Kylo. She closed her laptop and curled up in a corner of the bed.

 

            _hi :) i don’t work thursday night……is that ok???_

It was one in the morning, and Rey didn’t really expect a reply. Besides, she had to go to bed, unless she wanted to survive off of five espresso shots the next morning. She scooped up her laptop and the magazine and walked to her desk.

 

            Her phone buzzed again before her laptop hit the desk. Rey pulled her first bun free from its hair tie and leaned over to check.

 

            _I can do Thursday. I’ll pick you up at 6._

 

            Rey picked up her phone. _another surprise?_

_Yes._

_do i ever get to choose what we do?_ After some deliberation, she added: _;)_

The phone went silent; all Rey saw was “Read at 1:13 AM.” She let her hair all the way down and shook it out. Maybe Kylo had decided to go to sleep. Rey scooped up the phone and tucked it into her jeans pocket. She tiptoed across the dark apartment to the bathroom.

 

            So Kylo had inherited a financial empire. No wonder the guy could throw fifty-dollar bills around like it was nothing. A chill overcame her: Was that why Armitage was so interested in him?

 

            She pulled out her phone again: still no text from Kylo. She searched “armitage first order;” Google suggested “Armitage Hux” before she finished writing “first.”

 

            _Armitage Hux is the President of Scientific Research at First Order Ventures. He graduated summa cum laude from Galactic Technical Institute in 2004 with a degree in chemical engineering and has an MBA from Coruscant University._ Armitage gave a coy half-smile from the photo next to his First Order Ventures biography. Conclusion: richer than God. He didn't need Kylo; Kylo, the heir to Anakin's company, didn't need him.

 

           So why?

           

            Her phone buzzed; she jumped and hit her knee against the sink. “Fuck,” she hissed.

 

            At the top of her phone screen, from Kylo: _Forgive me. Is there something you’d rather do?_

Rey closed the web browser. _no no! just kidding. i had fun last night_

This time, his reply came immediately: _So did I._

Rey hesitated before writing her next message.

 

            _was i okay last night?_

An instantaneous reply: _Yes. Spectacular._

_are u being sarcastic?_

_No._

Kylo typed for a while. Rey watched the bubble appear, disappear, appear for several minutes. Finally, he settled on:

 

            _We’ll have time to get to know each other. Don’t worry._

Rey thought of the magazine in her bedroom. She typed out: _okay :)_

 

* * *

 

            That night she dreamt of a forest covered in snow, a glowing blade in her hand, blood at her feet. Someone was screaming at her.

 

* * *

 

            She set her alarm to six AM. Once it went off, she forced herself out of bed and got ready in ten minutes. She picked up her bike and slipped out of the apartment without getting breakfast.

 

            Rey pedaled downtown, into the heart of Galactic, to the Galactic Mall. She double-locked her bike in the bike rack next to the entrance. At seven in the morning, the mall was silent, smelling of plastic and department store perfume. Rey’s steps echoed past the shuttered stores and coffee shops as she hurried to the bookstore.

 

            An employee worker was just opening the bookstore's grate for the day. He gave Rey an odd look as she tumbled to a halt in front of him, panting.

 

            “I need a phone book,” Rey said.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting, everyone! And also a big thank you to @kyloshipsreylo for liveblogging my fic. <3 <3 <3 Such a joy to see someone's reaction to my work!
> 
> 9/11: Chapter uploaded.

            There was an entire phone book section underneath the magazines: _Galactic 2016_ , _Interstellar County 2016, Galactic Business and Office 2016 (now featuring Interstellar County and surrounding neighborhoods!)._ Rey sat cross-legged on the floor and pulled the _Galactic 2016_ phone book onto her lap.

 

            The employee peered over her shoulder. “Can I help you with anything?”

 

            Rey beamed up at him. “Just browsing. Thanks.”

 

            The man rolled his eyes and walked off. Rey flipped through the phone book. In her haste, she tore a page. She looked over her shoulder to ensure she hadn’t been seen.

 

 _S_. She read the section over and over, but there was nothing between _Skye_ and _Sloane_. _O,_ too, came up empty. Rey closed the book with a _thump_ and reached for  _Galactic Business and Office._

 

            She flipped too far ahead in the _S_ section this time and paused on a small ad:

 

MILLENIUM FALCON CYCLES

_Family Owned_

_Since 1972_

_Hoth’s Finest!_

            Rey traced her fingers around the ad’s border. Hoth was a small town about twenty miles out from the city, a half-hour train ride if the train arrived on time. Maz had taken her once, and they had bought candy and sat on Hoth Lake’s beach together. She didn’t remember a bicycle store…but then again, she had been seven. Maybe a small vacation would do her good. She pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of the ad before continuing.

 

            _Galactic Business and Office_ also came up empty of Skywalkers and Organas. She smacked her palm against the heavy book. “Damn it!”

 

            Drake started blasting over the speakers. Rey jumped.

 

            “If you need help,” shouted the employee from the register, “Just ask!”

 

            Rey narrowed her eyes at him. Back onto the shelf went _Galactic Business and Office,_ and off came _Interstellar County 2016._ If there were no Skywalkers or Organas in this one, she would have to stretch out to the thick state-wide phonebooks, of which there were ten editions. Her phone read _7:15 AM;_ her shift at the Outpost started at 8:30.

 

            She rifled through to _O_ ; again, nothing between _Oren_ and _Ory._ Rey took a deep breath and turned to _S_.

 

_Skywalker, L._

_1230 Shore Ln Ach’To MA 01890_

            Rey hunched over the phone book and read the address again. No phone number, but “Skywalker” was spelled correctly. Ach’To was far, near the border of New Hampshire and Massachusetts: a beach village known for its rocky outcroppings and wild beauty. If it were summer, Rey would consider taking a day off and biking over.

 

            She took a photo of Skywalker’s address and re-shelved the phone book.

 

            “Done browsing?” said the employee as she walked out.

 

* * *

 

            It was 2006 and Finn’s voice was hushed in the blanket fort. “No secrets. Do you promise?”

 

            Rey giggled and locked pinkies with him. “Promise.”

 

* * *

 

            Kylo’s car was blessedly warm. Rey melted into the leather seat. After a moment, the driver’s side door opened, and Kylo slid behind the wheel.

 

            “You look tired,” he said. He messed with the touch screen; FKA Twigs started playing, a quiet backdrop to their conversation. The car pulled out into the Jakku streets.

 

            “Long week,” she said. “I hope I’m not too boring.”

 

            Kylo rubbed his gloved thumb against his bottom lip in thought. “I don’t think that’s possible for you.”

 

            Rey smiled into her reflection in the window. “You don’t know that.”

 

            “Change of plans,” he replied. He bent forward to watch the traffic light above them. “We’ll have you describe how paint dries. Maybe then you'll be boring.”

 

            She laughed. The light changed; they moved forward.

 

            Rey picked at a loose thread on her sweater. _I saw something funny the other day,_ she thought, but she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. Her thoughts continued at the same steady pace as the traffic. _Your grandfather was in_ Wired. _I may have looked up your dad—_ no, that wasn’t right, Kylo said his dad was dead. But what if he was adopted, just like her? Did he mean his _birth_ father was dead? She rested her cheek against her closed fist.

 

            _Who was Luke Skywalker?_

And who was Leia Organa? The name dug up something deep in her memory, but when she tried to chase it, it retreated back into darkness.

 

            She felt a headache coming on.

 

            “Are you hungry?” Kylo asked.

 

            Rey turned to look at him. During her reverie, they had exited D’Qar and entered the Kashyyyk neighborhood. Rey watched the trees pass as they followed the shore of Wookie Pond. Night-time joggers and dog-walkers came into view, passed the car, faded into the background. “Kind of,” she said. “Where are we going?”

 

            “Imperial Street,” he said.

 

            “Are you serious?” Imperial Street in Naboo was full of boutiques and designer stores. She and Finn went to gawk, never to shop. She was pretty sure a white T-shirt went for 500 dollars there.

 

            “Why wouldn’t I be?” They turned off of Wookie Lake, back towards where Kashyyyk and Naboo intersected.

 

            Rey opened her mouth, closed it. Opened it again: “I guess so.”

 

            Kylo’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “You guess so.”

 

            “I just…I can’t really afford anything there.”

 

            The trees outside became apartment buildings, skyscrapers. They turned onto Imperial Street. Last-minute holiday shoppers flooded the streets, bathed in the light of white Christmas lights.

 

            Kylo said, “We’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

            As the valet drove away with their car, Kylo pressed a hand to her lower back, nudged her towards a dark blue door. “Go on.”

 

            The boutique was bright and empty, save for a few girls browsing the shelves and one employee. It smelled like roses. Rey brushed her palm against a pile of jeans sitting on a white countertop.

 

            The employee looked up from the register and grinned. “Welcome.”

 

            “Hi,” Rey breathed. The girl’s brown skin was flawless, her braids piled high in a neat bun on her head. Rey’s three-year-old tan sweater and frizzy hair made her feel like a child next to this woman. Kylo was a dark, solid presence behind her.

 

            “Whatever you’d like is yours,” he said, just low enough for her to hear. “Take your time.”

 

            Rey checked a price tag on a pair of indigo skinny jeans: three hundred dollars. The fabric was sinfully soft. This wouldn’t itch like her thrift store jeans after a ten-hour Outpost shift.

 

            “Kylo, I _can’t_.”

 

            “You can and you will.” His hand stretched into her vision, plucked the price tag from her fingers. He tucked it into the pocket of the jeans. "Besides, it's Christmas."

 

            That was that.

 

            Rey sighed. She pushed back the discomfort in her gut and approached the register.

 

            “Um.”

 

            “Yes?” The girl smiled at her again. Rey took a deep breath.

 

            “I could use some new jeans.”

 

* * *

 

            The employee whisked her around the store, piling blouses, jeans, jewelry into Rey’s arms, occasionally holding something up to her to see if it looked good. When they were done, Kylo handed the employee a sleek black credit card without a second glance at the pile of things on the counter.

 

            They left the boutique with two enormous paper bags in tow. Kylo took them from Rey, carried them as he pushed ahead of her.

 

            “This way.”

 

            Rey jogged after him.

 

            The next store was dimly-lit and had, to Rey’s count, approximately one dress per rack and one pair of shoes per shelf. The sales associate here, an older man with grey hair and an upturned nose, gave Rey a once-over. “How can I help you?”

 

            “Dress her,” Kylo said before Rey could respond. “Whatever the lady wants.” There was a cold tone in his voice that Rey hadn’t heard before. Whatever it was, it made the man in front of them snap to attention.

 

            Another sales associate, a blonde woman, swooped in and brushed Rey’s hair out of her eyes. Just like that, she became a doll, there to be fussed over. Both sales associates held gowns up to her, squabbling between themselves whether coral or forest green would look better, and did a high neckline make her look matronly, and they would recommend a French braid and silver chains with _this_ but pairing _these_ shoes would soften up the look. Rey stood as still as possible, eyes darting back and forth between the two. They ushered her into and out of the lone dressing room. Kylo sat on the couch in the center of the boutique and watched in silence.

 

            After an eternity, they pushed a black gown into her arms and drew the curtain on the dressing room. Rey held it at arm’s length. The dress was made of a soft, slinky fabric that pooled at her feet; it had long sleeves, but the deep V-cut in front and back made her blush. When she pulled it on, it hugged her close. Lifting up the skirt so she wouldn’t trip on it, she emerged from the dressing room in nothing but the gown and her blue socks.

 

            The grey-haired man pressed his fist to his mouth. “I don’t know…”

 

            “That one.” Kylo spoke up from the couch. Both sales associates turned to look at him. Rey smiled.

 

            “Are you sure?” said the man.

 

            Rey spoke up, still looking at Kylo. “We’re sure.” The way his eyes traveled up and down her front made her feel warm and light. Not even the upturned eyebrow of the blonde woman and the disbelieving, narrowed eyes of the male sales associate could change that.

 

* * *

 

            Rey leaned in to shovel another salmon roll into her mouth. “I think this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” she said around it.

 

            Kylo nudged at a spicy shrimp roll with his chopsticks. “It will do.” Ever since they had left the boutique and entered the bustling restaurant, he hadn’t looked her in the eye. Rey kept replaying the moment she stepped out of the dressing room in her mind. Before she had even swallowed the roll she was chewing, she reached for another one and popped it in her mouth.

 

            “So what do rich people do for fun?” she asked.

 

            Kylo eventually selected an eel roll from the plate. “Galas.”

 

            Rey lifted a hand to her mouth to keep rice from tumbling out. “Like in Gossip Girl?”

 

            He chewed the roll, swallowed, chased it with a swig of sake. “I’ve never seen it.”

 

            Rey stifled a laugh at the thought of Kylo, curled up on his black couch, bingeing Netflix. “You must read a lot.” She paused, added: “Magazines?”

 

            He raised his eyebrows at a slice of tuna as he picked it up. “You remembered.” His voice was low.

 

            Rey put her chopsticks down and rubbed her hands against her jeans. “How about that Kenobi School, huh?”

 

            She wasn’t sure what she had expected. Perhaps Kylo would be excited, maybe he would regale her with tales about his grandfather. Maybe he would be angry she had snooped. He would spill his entire family history over his third cup of sake.

 

            She didn’t expect apathy.

 

            He chewed the tuna and swallowed. “Yes, Ben Kenobi was a great man. Were it not for him, we wouldn’t have the company.”

 

            There was a sourness in his tone. Rey cleared her throat.

 

            Another moment passed, and the knot in his brow disappeared. Just like that, the mask was up again. Kylo set his napkin on the table. “I’d like to take you home again,” he said to the sushi plate. “If you’d want that.”

 

            Rey picked up her chopsticks and took the last spicy shrimp roll. It hit her tongue just as the waiter swooped in to clear the table. Kylo handed him his card without looking up.

 

            “Suppose I should pay you back for tonight," she said.

 

            “Don’t.”

 

            Rey looked up. He stared intently at her now, pressed his palms against the table and leaned in. She blinked hard.

 

            Kylo whispered, “You are no toy of mine. We’re not here to play _Pretty Woman_. Is that clear to you?” The sourness was back in his voice. “You are worth everything I have to give you.”

 

            Rey blinked again, leaned back while maintaining eye contact. “Yeah, fine,” she whispered back. “Sorry.”

 

            Kylo leaned back in his chair and tugged at his cuffs. “You’re so ashamed,” he said, but it sounded like he was speaking to himself. Rey pressed her lips together.

 

* * *

 

            Rey held Kylo’s hand as they walked through the restaurant, to the door. She gave the restaurant another look-around.

 

            A shock of red hair at the bar caught her eye: a man, in heated conversation with a woman in a slim white dress. Rey squinted at him. As if he sensed the attention, the man turned and looked at her.

 

            Armitage and Rey stared at each other across the restaurant. She watched his face twist into disbelief, confusion, then rage. The woman he was with looked over his shoulder, raised an eyebrow at her. Rey saw her mouth form the words, “Who’s that?”

 

            He bared his teeth.

 

            Rey gasped and tripped. Kylo stopped when she bumped into him. “Are you alright?” he asked as he turned.

 

            “Of course,” Rey replied. He reached out to her; she patted his forearms. “Let’s go.”

 

            She forced herself not to look back.

           

* * *

 

            There were fresh orchids on the kitchen counter in Kylo’s apartment. Rey caressed a petal with her fingertip. The shopping bags rustled as he set them down in the foyer.

 

            “We can watch a movie,” he said, “if you like.”

 

            “Where did you get these?” Rey breathed.

 

            “There’s a florist in Cantina Square. Do you like flowers?”

 

            “My mother grew orchids.” An image came to her: dozens of purple blooms in Maz’s living room nook, stretching to the sunshine. Rey adjusted the pot without thinking, turning t so it better faced the windows.

 

            Kylo wandered over to her, stopped when he was over her shoulder. “Orchids are difficult,” he murmured. “They require discipline and attention. But with the correct attitude, they will flourish.”

 

            Rey pressed her palms to the cool countertop. Kylo reached out, moved Rey’s hair out of the way to expose the back of her neck, but didn’t do anything else. She kept thinking back to Armitage in the restaurant: angry, hurt, shocked. She closed her eyes, tried to will the memory away. Failed.

 

            He asked, “What are you thinking about?”

 

            She shook her head. “Nothing.” _No secrets. Do you promise?_ When did she learn to lie?

Rey turned and pulled Kylo close. He took the hint, pressed her up against the countertop and bent to kiss her. She laced her fingers in his hair, felt him sigh and slide his tongue into her mouth. The kissing was better than she remembered, warm and humming with energy. Kylo tilted his head and dragged his teeth against her earlobe; she bit back a moan and ground against him. He lifted her onto the counter.

 

            “Wait,” she said when he reached for her jeans, “the orchids, we’ll…”

 

            “Ah.” He lifted her off the counter, set her down on the floor. “You’re worried about the orchids.”

 

            Rey pressed her hands against his chest. He let her push him out of the kitchen, towards the couch. “You said it yourself, they’re hard to grow.”

 

            Kylo looked down his nose at her, tilted his head. “Flowers are replaceable.”

 

            “Orchids are not,” she replied.

 

            He sat on the couch, and she straddled him. Their next kiss was more heated, full of teeth. Rey caressed his jawline, rubbed herself against his jeans. Kylo steadied her with his hands on her bottom, forcing her to slow down.

 

            “Won’t you sit on my face?” he asked, so polite despite the tortuous way they were moving together.

 

            “Why?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. Kylo pulled back and stared at her.

 

            “Because I fantasize about you doing it,” he said softly. “Is that enough?”

 

            Rey flicked her hair out of her eyes, trying her best to look nonchalant despite her heart pounding in time with his. “I’ve never done that before.” She’s never done _anything_ before.

 

            Kylo moved his hands to the front of her pants. “I can teach you.” When they kissed again, she felt a smile on his lips.

 

            Rey stood to undress; Kylo stretched out on the couch, his head resting near one armrest. “Wait,” he said as she reached for her underwear, “leave those on.”

 

            She looked down at the white briefs, faded from use and now damp with her arousal.

 

            Kylo put a hand on her thigh. “Come here.”

 

            Using his chest for balance, Rey fumbled her way back onto the couch. He grunted when she sat on his stomach.

 

            “Do I…?” Rey gestured towards his face.

 

            “Yes, look—“ And he took her by the hips and helped her inch forward. When her knees were on either side of his head, he leaned up and nuzzled her through her underwear. She sucked in a breath.

 

            He mouthed at her, tongue darting out to taste her through the fabric. Rey groped blindly for his hair and pulled as he found her clit and sucked.

 

            “Oh my God,” she breathed, “oh God…”

 

            “Shhhh.” He breathed her in and looked at her with a dazed expression. When Rey tugged on his hair again, more insistent this time, he gasped and went back to his work. She let her head loll back on her shoulders. Her underwear clung to her.

 

            After an eternity, Kylo pushed aside the fabric and dragged his tongue across her slit, gathering the wetness there. Rey whined and rolled her hips.

 

            “Pull my hair,” Kylo said, eyes still closed, mouth so close to her cunt she could feel his words against her skin.

 

            “What?”

 

            “Pull my hair. Hard.”

 

            She gathered the hair at the crown of his head into a ponytail and tugged. Kylo growled, sucked on her clit with renewed fervor. Rey, sweating even through the chill of the apartment, tugged her sweater over her head and threw it over the back of the couch.

 

            “You like it rough, huh?” she panted.

 

            His dark eyes stared up at her, his expression carefully neutral. She tugged on his hair again; he let out a cry.

 

            “Tell me,” she said through gritted teeth.

 

            “Yes,” he breathed. He flattened his tongue against her clit, maintained eye contact as he dragged it over her in a slow, deliberate lick. Rey framed his face with her hands, watched as his eyes fluttered shut. He dipped his tongue in and out of her.

 

            “Wanna fuck you,” Rey whispered, transfixed as she watched him. “Wanna feel you come.”

 

            He lifted his face away from her, a smile tugging at his lips. He looked up at her, eyebrows raised. “How polite.”

 

            “Please?”

 

            Kylo’s stare fell to the soul mark on the inside of her thigh. His thumb brushed the skin near it. He looked back up at her. “Gladly,” he said.

 

            Rey wiggled off of him and let him stand. Kylo walked to the bedroom and disappeared; she took the time to tug off her underwear and stretch out on the couch, on her back. She snuggled into the warmth Kylo’s body had left behind.

 

            _Bzzzzz._

She rose and looked over the back of the couch, towards the kitchen. Kylo’s cell phone was going off on the counter. _Bzz. Bzzzzzzz. Bzzz._

Kylo returned with a condom and lube in one hand. He quirked his head, strode past Rey to look at the phone screen. He scoffed, picked it up with his free hand, and silenced it as he returned to the couch.

 

            Rey leaned back on her elbows. Kylo tossed the phone onto the coffee table. She asked, “Was that…important?”

 

            “No,” he said, undoing his jeans just far enough to free his cock. Rey twisted her mouth in disappointment; once again, no undressing on his part. He opened the condom wrapper and prepared himself; as he pumped his length in a wet fist, he stared at her. Rey licked her lips and lied back on the couch, focusing on the darkness of his eyes, the sharp intakes of breath he made on every turn of his wrist, the pre-come dribbling from the tip of him into the condom.

 

            She lifted her hips as he shifted forward and positioned himself. “Let me know if this hurts,” he said, and that was the warning she got before he started pushing in. Rey hissed at the resistance; Kylo paused.

 

            “Go, go,” she gasped.

 

            He slid in by torturous inches, stretching her full. There was a dull sting against her entrance, then a release, and all she felt was him, all around her, hands near her head, breath on her face.

 

            Silence fell on them. He shifted his hips.

 

            “Comfortable?” he asked her.

 

            Rey scrunched her nose and laughed. “Seriously?”

 

            He rolled his hips. Her laughter died in her throat.

 

            “Oh, fuck.” The statement fell from her mouth just as he gasped.

 

            “You’re tight,” he sighed.

 

            Rey reached up, grasped at his hair and pulled. Kylo bared his teeth and let her tilt his head back, expose just the smallest amount of skin between his shirt collar and chin. He pulled back and snapped his hips forward into her, and like that they were off, and she mapped every single mole on his neck as he pumped himself in and out of her, little gasps leaving his mouth, _ah-ah-ah_ , and they moved together for centuries before the phone went off again.

 

            Rey released his hair.

 

            _HUX,_ said the phone screen.

 

            Kylo slowed his pace with a roll of his eyes. He reached for the phone.

 

            “What are you…?” Rey’s mouth fell open with disbelief as he _answered_ the call, still buried deep inside her.

 

            “Hello?”

 

            Rey faintly heard Armitage’s accent on the other end of the phone.

 

            “You’re answering your phone _now_?” she hissed. Kylo pressed two fingers to her mouth. She glared at him.

 

            Kylo responded, “Yes, I’m aware.” Armitage kept talking. “Mm-hmm.” A question. “No, that can wait until after the holiday.”

 

            He fell silent as Armitage kept talking at a stretch. Rey clenched around him, and he started to thrust into her again, still somehow looking bored and _still_ listening to Armitage over the phone as he fucked her. His fingers fell from her lips and ducked between her legs to rub her clit. Rey pressed her lips together to keep from making noise.

 

            Kylo pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed a button. Armitage’s voice filled the room on speaker phone.

 

            “—and Inspire Therapeutics is saying they need twenty million in funding for this quarter’s project to move forward. All I’m saying is that we need to clear space tomorrow for lunch with their head of research.”

 

            Rey clapped a hand over her mouth. Kylo, unfazed, continued rolling his hips and rubbing her clit. “Christmas Eve is on Saturday," he said to the phone. "Do you think he’ll be in-office tomorrow?”

 

            “I received confirmation that he will be. If we can knock him down to fifteen, I’ll consider that a victory.”

 

            “This couldn’t wait until tomorrow,” Kylo said flatly. Rey laughed behind her hand, then groaned as Kylo angled his thrusts to hit her at _just_ the right angle. She could feel her orgasm building.

 

            Armitage hesitated over the phone. “What was that?”

 

            “The television,” Kylo said. Rey felt mortified and, strangely,  _really turned on_ at Armitage hearing them. She covered her face.

 

            A beat. “What are you up to?”

 

            “I’m going through the files you gave me,” Kylo said. His eyes swiveled to hers, then he flicked his hair out of his eyes and looked away. Rey gritted her teeth and smacked Kylo’s thigh, causing him to look down at her as the tightness in her stomach burst. He watched her come in silence, still rocking into her in small thrusts.

 

            “Do you want to do something before Christmas?” Armitage’s voice went soft in a way Rey had never heard before. She rode out the aftershocks, letting out a shaky breath. “Celebrate once this mess is over.”

 

            Kylo smoothed a hand over her belly. “Yes,” he said. “Why don’t you come by at seven?”

 

            Armitage sounded smug when he responded. “It’s settled.” He hung up.

 

            Kylo placed the phone back on the coffee table. “Where were we?” He gripped her hips.

 

            “When are you going to tell him?” she whispered. No more lies.

 

            He paused. “Is it important?”

 

            “He doesn’t know.” Rey’s voice felt raw. “I…Kylo, I saw him at the restaurant bar. He was watching us.”

 

            She felt his pulse inside of her. Rey squirmed against the couch cushions.

 

            “He knows,” Kylo said.

 

            “Please don’t do that.”

 

            “Do what?”

 

            “He was really angry, Kylo.”

 

            “I told you,” he said, voice low and even, “he means nothing to me.”

 

            “But he’s _someone_.” Rey pressed her hands to Kylo’s stomach. “Let me go.”

 

            He slid out of her without a fight. Rey swung her legs off the couch and reached for her underwear and jeans. She suddenly felt sticky and terribly alone. Kylo’s eyes followed her as she walked around the couch to get her sweater.

 

            “When will I see you again?” he asked.

 

            “Get your things figured out first,” she responded. She dressed. “I’ll figure some stuff out, too.”

 

            “That’s not possible.”

 

            Rey looked back at him, one arm halfway in her sweater. He was still kneeling on the couch. “Tell him, Kylo.”

 

            “That’s not possible,” he said again, like a child.

 

            “Why not?”

 

            “He won’t understand.” He reached for her hand. Rey let him take it; his fingers were still wet from touching her.

 

            She bit her lip and watched him stroke the back of her hand. She pulled away. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. “Yeah?”

 

            “I need to take you home first.”

 

            Rey looked down at her feet. “I can, um. Take the train. You’ve already done so much.”

 

            Kylo rose from the couch, buttoning up his pants. “We’re going.” Despite the command, his voice was gentle.

 

* * *

 

            They drove back to her apartment in silence. Rey rested her forehead against the cool window. Kylo stared straight ahead, hands tight on the wheel.

 

            On the sidewalk outside of her building, Rey made to open the door when Kylo said, “May I kiss you?”

 

            Rey turned to him and closed her eyes. After a moment, Kylo pressed his mouth to hers. They kissed in the warm, dark silence of the car.

 

            Kylo pulled away and pecked her cheek. “Thank you,” he sighed.

 

            Rey found herself smiling. “This isn’t _Pretty Woman_ , remember?”

 

            He snorted. She giggled and leaned against him.

 

            “You have to do something,” she said. “What if he was your soul mate?”

 

            “I wouldn’t know,” he replied.

 

* * *

           

            Rey leaned over the counter with a pen, staring at the Outpost’s schedule for next week. If she could take off next Saturday, just after New Year’s, _and_ get someone else to take her courier shift that night, she could make the trek to Ach’To _and_ visit Hoth on the way back. She circled something on the schedule and wrote a note to Unkar. He wouldn’t be pleased (he never was), but last night left a further desire to see something of Kylo’s personal life. The man wouldn't even undress in front of her.

 

            A muffin half, perfectly arranged on a tiny ceramic plate, slid into view. A second later, she felt Finn kiss the top of her head.

 

            “Merry Christmas, peanut.”

 

            “It’s December 23rd.” Rey scrunched her nose at him as she took a bite of the muffin. Finn scrunched his nose back at her.

 

            “Close enough. When are you coming to Poe’s tomorrow?”

 

            Rey turned leaned back against the counter. “I was thinking noon. I have cookies to bake, remember?”

 

            The front bell rang. Finn and Rey turned. Armitage strode in, coat fluttering behind him. The only indication of the holiday season was a bright red scarf around his neck.

 

            Rey swallowed. He gave her a tight smile.

 

            “Good morning, all,” he said. His voice was like acid. “A large black coffee will do.”

 

            Finn grabbed a cup and went to the carafes, but not before touching Rey on the shoulders: a warning. Rey straightened her cap on her head.

 

            “It’s on the house,” she said.

 

            Armitage raised an eyebrow. “Really?” He leaned in, still smiling. “Perhaps some of us are feeling the holiday spirit after all.”

 

            Finn came up behind her and handed the coffee to Armitage. He snatched it from her friend’s hand and turned on his heel.

 

            “He freaks me out,” Finn muttered as they watched him settle down at his usual spot.

 

            Rey’s chest felt tight. “Maybe he’s stressed out,” she said. “Maybe something’s going on at home.”

 

            Finn went to the espresso bar. “He must be stressed _all the time_. I feel like he’s going to explode, pull a gun on us or something.”

 

            “Finn!” Rey turned on him.

 

            He looked up from where he was wringing out a rag into the cleaning bucket. Hurt flooded his eyes when he saw her glaring. “What’s up with you?” he asked. “I was kidding. You got a crush on him?”

 

            “That’s not funny.”

 

            “I’m sorry.” Finn sighed and stood back up. “You’re right.” He looked back at where Armitage sipped his coffee and stared out the window at the morning traffic. He was still wearing his coat and scarf, despite the stifling heat of the Outpost. “Maybe he doesn’t have anyone to spend Christmas with, and he’s upset about it.”

 

            The thought of Armitage alone on Christmas Eve made Rey want to cry. The front bell rang again.

 

            Kylo ignored the counter and went straight to where Armitage was sitting. Armitage glared up at him as he approached. Rey stood fixed to the spot as they began talking in low voices.

 

 _No_ , she thought as Armitage’s face twisted with rage. _No, no._

 

            Armitage’s chair squealed when he stood up. He snatched up his drink and shoved past Kylo.

 

            Kylo followed him out the café. The customers turned in their chairs to watch the fight. Finn was still next to Rey, both of them as transfixed as everyone else. Kylo caught the door as Armitage slipped out of it. They stopped just outside the glass door to the Outpost.

 

            Armitage wheeled on him and snapped at him, their noses inches apart. Kylo shook his head, hands spread wide. Rey stopped breathing. Passerby hesitated near the two men.

 

            They stood staring at each other for a while.

 

            Armitage back-handed Kylo across the face. Kylo’s head snapped with the force of it. Rey gasped and stumbled back.

 

            “Holy fuck,” Finn blurted. He dropped the cleaning rag, vaulted over the counter, and ran to the door. Rey couldn’t see Kylo’s face, but Armitage was screaming at him. As Finn opened the door, Rey caught: “—this entire time, you didn’t think it was _important_ , how dare—“

  

            Finn stepped between the two men. Kylo brought up a hand and touched his cheek where Armitage had hit him. Finn tried to push them apart, but Armitage wheeled on him instead, and the two men began arguing. Rey ran to the counter door and rushed to the door, opening it.

 

            Finn held up both of his hands. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he shouted at Armitage, “But you can’t do this here!”

 

            “I can’t confront a cheating pig in front of his new girlfriend, is that it?” Armitage had turned red in the face.

 

            “New girlfriend?” Finn whispered.

 

            Both of them turned to Rey. Rey froze.

 

            Armitage huffed and turned back to Kylo. The other man hadn’t moved. Snow settled in his black hair. “Merry fucking _Christmas_ ,” Armitage spat. “Enjoy fucking her.” He turned and stomped off.

 

            Finn furrowed his brows at Rey.

 

            “Finn…” she began.

 

            He put his hands on her shoulders. “It was a misunderstanding,” he said to her, “We’ll fix it.”

 

            Finn turned to Kylo. “Hey man, you want some ice?” He reached for Kylo’s hand, touched the glove.

 

            Kylo whirled around and shoved Finn hard. He went flying back into the window near the door; the glass wobbled with the force of the impact. Finn choked as the air left his lungs.

 

            “Finn!” Rey jumped in front of him, helped him up from the sidewalk. He looked dazed, but there was no blood when Rey felt the back of his head. When she looked up, Kylo had disappeared.

 

            Rey felt her stomach drop. She had let that man treat her last night, had let him kiss her, _touch_ her—

 

            And now her friend was coughing and clinging to her, all because he had lost his temper. He had lost his temper because he had _cheated_ on Armitage and got _called out_ and it was all because of _her_ that Armitage was going to spend Christmas alone, that Finn was spluttering and trying to catch his breath below her.

 

            “Are you okay?” she said, but her throat was so tight she barely made a sound.

 

            Finn swallowed. “Yeah.” He stumbled to his feet. “Holy fuck.”

 

            Rey’s hands shook as she brushed snow off of his sweater. “We should call someone,” she said. Her fingers danced along the sleeves. “We should…Finn, why don’t you take today off…?”

 

            “You’re lucky he didn’t get _you_ ,” Finn said. He grabbed her hands and held them tightly. “What if you had been in the way?”

 

            Rey shook her head. The first tears began to fall. “He wouldn’t, not…not to me. He wouldn’t hurt me.”

 

            Finn blinked hard, furrowed his brows as he stared at her. “What’s going on?”

 

            Someone called out from inside: “Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

 

            “No,” Finn and Rey said at the same time.

 

            Rey looked down at her sneakers. Snow was leaking into the holes around the rubber soles. “I…I have something to tell you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting, everyone! And thank you, as always, for all your kind comments and kudos. I cherish every single one. <3
> 
> 10/1: Chapter uploaded.

            In the Outpost’s dark basement, Rey spilled her guts: seeing Armitage in Kylo’s apartment, how Kylo had found her fixing her bike, the photograph of Anakin Skywalker. She didn’t talk about the sex, and Finn didn’t ask. He rubbed her shoulder with one hand and held a bag of frozen fries to his head with the other as she stared at the floor and admitted that her jeans were new, that Kylo had bought her an entire wardrobe the night before, how he grew orchids, which so thoroughly reminded her of—

 

            “Maz,” they said together.

 

            Finn adjusted his grip on the bag of fries. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me?” he asked.

 

            Rey didn’t have an answer for that.

 

            He continued, “Let’s stay at Poe’s tonight.”

 

            “I have baking to do,” Rey said to Finn’s white sneakers.

 

            “Kylo knows where you live, right?”

 

            Rey nodded. Finn sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Sorry,” Rey said.

 

            “No, you…you didn’t know.” He released her shoulder and leaned against the freezer door. “Let’s just get through Christmas, wait for him to calm down. I don’t want him doing something fucked-up to you.”

 

            Rey clenched her fists. “He wouldn’t.”

 

            “Rey.” Finn’s voice became soft. Rey felt the tension in her body release and sink into the concrete floor. Finn said, “Good guys don’t act like that. They don’t lash out, they don’t sneak around. After Christmas, you can go home. I’ll stay with you for a couple nights after that, just to make sure.”

 

            “I don’t need your help!” Rey said through gritted teeth.

 

            “But you keep pushing me away!” Finn snapped back. Rey huffed and wiped at her cheek. “I didn’t even know this was happening, and now I’m _scared,_ Rey! I’m afraid I’m going to lose you because he can’t control himself like a normal person!”

 

            “What do I do?” Rey whispered.

 

            Finn gathered her close with his free arm. Rey pressed her forehead to his shoulder.

 

            “I’m really confused,” she said against his shirt.

 

            “I know,” Finn replied, and he sounded just as lost as she did. “I know.”

 

            He held her back just far enough to catch her eye. “Let’s get back upstairs. I’m sure we got a line out the door.”

 

            Rey sniffled.  “I don’t know if I can do this.”

 

            “I don’t know if I can either.” Finn turned to open the freezer door. “But it can’t get any worse.” He tossed the fries inside. "Let's go."

 

\--

 

            Rey wheeled her bike back to her apartment, Finn keeping pace beside her. They said nothing as they stepped over the snow piles. The streetlights changed. They moved around pedestrians like ghosts in the afternoon light. When they reached her apartment, Finn waited outside for her to get ready.

 

             She fumbled for her overnight bag in the dark of her bedroom. She avoided looking at the bags of new clothes sitting at the foot of her bed. After some thought, she dropped everything and peeled off the jeans Kylo had bought her. She reached for a crumpled pair of her own jeans, balled up on her desk chair, and put those on instead.

 

             When she stepped out of the elevator, Finn looked at the holes in the knees and said nothing.

 

            They took the subway to D’Qar, holding hands the entire time. Rey’s heart stopped when she saw a flash of red hair or a dark coat on the platforms; Finn let her squeeze his hand until it passed.

 

* * *

 

            “Alright, alright,” came Poe’s voice from the other side of the door. A moment passed, then the door swung open. Poe wheeled to the threshold, wearing a beaten-up U.S. AIR FORCE sweater and a huge smile. BB8 popped out from behind the door.

 

            When Poe saw Finn and Rey on the other side, his smile fell. “Everything okay?”

 

* * *

 

            Poe’s house was warm and smelled of tomato soup. Rey curled up on the couch in one of Poe’s knit blankets while Finn gave Poe the abbreviated story of her and Kylo. He listened intently, giving a low whistle when Finn mentioned the clothes Kylo had bought her. Rey stared at Poe’s tabletop Christmas tree and the tiny light-up angel on top of it.

 

            Poe pressed on the back of Finn’s head. “Are you sure you’re not concussed?” Finn shook his head. Poe tutted and held Finn’s head in his hands. “That asshole. And Rey, did he get you?”

 

            “He never hurt me,” Rey mumbled at the angel.

 

            Finn said, “I was gonna stay with her for a while, just wait until it blows over.”

 

            “Good.” Poe patted Finn’s cheek. BB8 jumped up on the couch and laid her head on Rey’s thigh. Rey stroked her ear between thumb and forefinger. Poe had arranged their gifts in a small pile around the Christmas tree, the fake candles in the window casting golden light on the packages. Suddenly, the  books in Rey’s overnight bag didn’t seem like enough. These two men—her friends—were opening up their lives to her, and she was too embarrassed to tell them about Kylo, about her trip to Ach’To to find this out for herself. All she had to show for her appreciation were two used books, packaged in cutesy Santa wrapping paper.

 

            “We’re gonna have a good Christmas, babe,” Poe said to her. “You hear me? This party runs on smiles."

 

* * *

 

            Rey opened her eyes. She was wrapped up on the air mattress in Poe’s bedroom, staring at the wheel of his chair. On the bed, Poe and Finn were curled up under the covers. Finn was snoring. BB8 was in her pink bed nearby, nose tucked under her front paws.

 

            Their Christmas Eve had been appropriately merry. Rey found her worries melting away as they cooked together, watched old Christmas movies, ate until they were sick. They Skyped with Finn’s family, who were away on a South Dakota military base, and Poe’s family, still in Guatemala. Finn had cooed at his little brother, only five years old. Rey had shuffled into the frame for Poe’s video chat, less confident meeting his family than seeing Finn’s again, and they had talked in alternating English and Spanish.

 

            The bed creaked. Poe lifted his head and grinned at Rey. Even sleep-mussed and unshaven, he still looked handsome. “Merry Christmas,” he said, voice raspy.

 

            Rey smiled back at him, pressed her cheek against her pillow. “Merry Christmas.”

 

* * *

 

            She put BB8’s leash on. The dog blinked and _woo_ -ed at her as she struggled to open the front door. The Christmas morning was bracing; Rey shivered a bit in her pajama pants as she and BB8 wandered down Poe’s quiet, sun-dappled street. An elderly man waved at her from a window. BB8 kept her nose to the ground, snuffling around for chipmunks that had missed the winter freeze.

 

            Her phone buzzed. Rey took it out without hesitation. Finn and Poe were probably up and making pancakes.

 

            Instead, she saw a single text from Kylo: _Merry Christmas._

Rey stopped. BB8 tugged on her leash, looking back at Rey when she wouldn’t budge. She felt a white-hot anger bubbling in her chest: how _dare_ this man assault her friend, keep a relationship behind her back, and act like none of it ever happened, like he could go on buying her things and fucking her like—

 

            Like normal?

 

            Rey squeezed her eyes shut. The anger faded away into something hollow.

 

            _Was_ this normal?

 

            She slipped her phone back into her pocket without replying.

 

* * *

 

            After all of their presents had been opened and the three of them sat around drinking coffee, Poe wheeled over to his bookshelf and extracted a small orange gift bag. He returned to the sitting room and gave it to Rey.

 

            Rey smiled, held it up to her ear and shook it. All she heard was the clunking of folded paper.

 

            “Just one last thing,” Poe said, “before I forget.” He winked. Finn leaned towards her.

 

            Rey reached past the tissue and felt around. Indeed, all that was in the bag was a single sheet of paper, folded in quarters. She spread it out on her lap and gasped.

 

           It was a printed email, dated December 20th:

 

            _Hi_ _Poe—_

_Tell Rey she is free to apply to be a flight attendant. She sounds like a great girl. Please have her mention my name and we’ll make sure her application gets first priority. I’m free to interview with her after New Year’s._

_Cheers,_

_Ello._

 

            “I know it’s not as good as getting accepted,” Poe said from beside her, “but I just shook the branch a little. I wanted to see if we could get you in uniform a little faster.”

 

            Rey looked at Finn, mouth open. He beamed at her. “Poe made me swear not to tell,” he said.

 

            “Pinky-promised,” Poe added.

 

            “I’m getting a new job,” Rey breathed. She held the email up to the window, as if the light could verify if it was real.

 

            “Ello knows everyone.” Poe reached out and put his hand on Rey’s knee. “You impress him, you’re good to go.”

 

            Rey scrambled to her feet and threw her arms around Poe. “Thank you,” she squeaked. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

 

            Poe squeezed her close. “You’re getting out of here, Rey. I promise.”

           

* * *

 

            _Hi, Rey. I’d like to take you out for the new year. Are you free?_

Rey ignored this, too.

 

* * *

 

 

            Neither Kylo nor Armitage returned to the Outpost.

 

* * *

 

 

            “It is time you learned, Kylo Ren: people come and go. Rely on yourself.”

 

* * *

 

            _Tell me about the droid._

Rey shot up in bed. Despite the freezing January morning, her sweat-soaked blanket clung to her skin. She couldn’t see the man’s face, but he had sounded uncannily like Kylo, someone whose voice sounded dead and fragile. Rey took slow stock of her room:

 

            The email from Ello, taped on the wall above her desk;

 

            Finn’s Jakku High sweater, draped on the back of her chair;

 

            Her jeans and leggings from her courier shift, crumpled on her floor, the socks still embedded in the legs where she had slipped everything off as one sweaty unit;

 

            A half-empty bottle of Coke.

 

            Home.

 

            And there, on the floor near her sneakers, were two bus tickets: one to Ach’To, leaving from Tatooine at 8 AM; one returning from Hoth to Tatooine at 8 PM.

 

            Rey drew her knees to her chest and rubbed her eyes. Today was the day she was meant to go to Luke. She had taken off work for this, was foregoing pay. Outside, the sun was nothing more than a blue hint of twilight on the edge of her street. The dream had exhausted her despite her courier shift. With a heavy sigh, she slid out of bed and moved to her laundry pile to find clean clothes.

 

            Finn was asleep on the couch in the common room. She tiptoed to him and pressed a kiss to his temple.

 

            Kylo hadn’t gotten in touch since his New Year’s request. Finn had urged her to formally end things with him, to tell him off instead of letting themselves fall apart, but every time Rey dialed his number, she turned off her phone before she could hit “Call.” She had already scheduled time for Luke; might as well follow through, one last effort to find Kylo out, before she ended it for good.

 

            Rey brushed her teeth, splashed water on her face, tied her hair up. She made toast with butter in the kitchen and wolfed it down while she watched the sun rise over Jakku. She put on her sneakers.

 

            She took her bike and closed the front door behind her.

 

* * *

 

            The Ach’To bus stop had a prominent ad near the vending machines:

 

_DEFY FATE. MAKE YOUR OWN DESTINY._

_VANISHING ACT:_

_Interstellar’s Best Soul Mark Removal Service_

Rey shouldered her backpack and wheeled her bike past the ad’s smiling woman.

 

            The wind had picked up as the sun rose, but Ach’To was otherwise cloudless. Rey smoothed out her printed map pages on a picnic table. Shore Lane was on the other end of town, and Luke lived at the end, on a cliff: a triumphant red dot just before the green of Ach’To gave way into the Atlantic. In blue pen, she had circled a few shops where she could get a cheap meal before taking the bicycle trip to Hoth a few towns over. The train or bus would be warmer, but Rey saw that as frivolous, an extra comfort that would take more cash than she needed to spend. She would have to make do.

 

            She pocketed the map, swung her leg over her bike, and began to ride.

 

            Unlike Galactic, Ach’To was small and quiet. Sleepy residents wandered out to get their newspapers and check the mail. A teenager drank an iced coffee, swinging back and forth in a suspended bench on her porch. The street signs were a faded, dingy green. Small maps along the main road helpfully pointed out various tourist spots: _THE OLD ANCHOR, CRANBERRY BOGS, ANTIQUES._ A café put a sign out advertising a turkey sub for lunch.

 

            Rey turned off onto Wolves Path, which veered into Moosehead Drive, into Wayback Road, up, up, up the cliffs, to (finally) Shore Lane.

 

            The houses here were large but sparse: worn white Victorians with sprawling brown lawns. She slowed down as she reached the end of the street. Sure enough, there was a narrow dirt driveway that led up to the final house: a pale yellow Colonial with peeling paint and a purple minivan in the driveway.

 

            Rey chained her bike to the white mailbox. Its painted numbers read:

 

**1230**

The lawn had a cracked white birdbath. A stone frog guarded the steps up to the porch. Next to the door was a wooden sign:

 

**SKYWALKER**

Surrounded by looping red peonies.

 

            Rey took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

A thousand lifetimes passed between the bright chime of the doorbell and Rey’s hand dropping to her side. For a thousand moments, Rey wondered if perhaps Luke wasn’t home, or if she had gotten the _wrong_ Skywalkers, if she had blown thirty dollars on bus tickets for nothing. She clenched her fists, released them. The wind howled over the ocean beyond the unkempt lawn.

 

            The door opened.

 

            A man, not much taller than Rey herself, peered at her from a dark entryway. He was wearing a thick yellow gardening glove on one hand, the palm still caked with dirt.

 

            “Hi,” Rey said. “Are you Luke Skywalker?”

 

            The man blinked. If he were Rey’s age, she thought, he’d be stunningly handsome. She mentally erased the creases underneath his doe eyes.

 

            The man spoke: “Yes, I’m Luke. What can I do for you?”

 

            His voice was soft. Rey cleared her throat and extended her hand.

 

            “My name is Rey Kanata,” she said, “and I’m here to—“

 

            “Rey,” said the man, and immediately his eyes softened. A warm smile broke out on his face. “Come in.”

 

            Rey’s words died in her throat. He had greeted her like she was an old friend. Instinctively, she looked back at her bike.

 

            “Ah,” said Luke, following her gaze, “you can leave that there. It’ll be safe.” He added, “Fixed gear, huh?”

 

            Rey looked back at Luke. “Yeah,” she said, and stepped past the welcome mat into Luke’s home. “It feels more natural.”

 

            As they walked past the entryway into a dim living room, Luke continued, “I was just working in my greenhouse. I can give you the grand tour, if you want.”

 

            Rey stared at the overstuffed armchairs. Luke’s home was filled with photos: Luke and a brown-haired woman eating ice cream at the beach. Luke getting a noogie from an older man. Some baby pictures.

 

            Ben Kenobi.

 

            Rey hesitated over the picture, but before she could ask, Luke called, “Over here!” He sounded far away.

 

            She tore her eyes away from Ben and trotted to where Luke was waving in a doorway beyond the kitchen. Behind him was a soft, cream-colored light. Luke stepped aside to let her in.

 

            The greenhouse was small, but sunny. The windows were painted over, casting the room in a pale glow. Vines, hanging plants, flowers of all kinds and colors packed the space, reaching up towards the vaulted ceiling. Rey stepped over a few tulip pots. There was a tiny vegetable garden in a wooden box against the far wall: tomatoes, basil, mint. Moisture collected on the windows.

 

            And most of all, there were white orchids.

 

            They twisted through the air, higher than Maz had ever grown them, brushing up against the ceiling and opening wide for the sun to come through. Their thick leaves curled up from the shelves of soil lining the walls, dancing across the floor.

 

            “Wow,” Rey breathed. She reached out and stroked a white petal.

 

            “An old friend taught me how to grow orchids.” Luke inched past her and retrieved the other gardening glove from where it hung next to a trowel. “Some say they’re the hardest flowers to grow. They need discipline and attention. But if you take care of them—“

 

            “They’ll flourish,” Rey breathed. “My…” _Boyfriend?_ “The man I’m seeing said the same thing.”

 

            Luke tutted as he shoveled a basil plant into a terra cotta pot. “Always nice to run into someone who appreciates them.”

 

            He walked past her with the potted basil. “You want tea?” he asked. “I got some fancy stuff for the holidays.” He shrugged. "Figured I'd save it for a special occasion."

 

            Rey felt something warm break open in her chest, the same feeling she got when Finn and Poe had cuddled her close while they watched _Rudolph_ in the dark. “Yeah,” she said. “Surprise me.”

 

* * *

 

            She sat in a white armchair and studied Luke's bookshelf. Most of the books were plant-related, yes, but she caught some travel books (“France,” said one, “Iceland,” said another), a few novels ( _Swamplandia!_ , _Slaughterhouse Five_ ), some technical manuals (“Advanced C++,” “Mastering Linux.”).

 

            Luke handed her something spicy and floral in a green mug. “So,” he said, “what brings you over?”

 

            Rey turned to look at him. The tea in the mug tasted like cinnamon. “I came here to ask about Anakin Skywalker. And,” she added, “Kylo Ren.”

 

            He looked up at her from where he was setting a matching teapot on the table. His lips parted.

 

            Rey shrunk against the chair. Luke had seemed to age fifty years with her question. She pressed on. “I read an article and I got curious. The…the man I’m seeing. His name is Kylo Ren. He says Anakin was his grandfather.”

 

            Luke sat down on the couch with a great sigh. “Yes, Anakin was my father. And Kylo…he’s my nephew.” He rested his cheek against a closed fist. “This was the _Wired_ article?”

 

            Rey nodded.

 

            Luke gestured to something behind her. When Rey turned, she realized it was the photo of Ben Kenobi.

 

            “‘Old Ben,’ I called him,” Luke said. “Thought he was just some crazy guy living down the street, and it turns out he knew my father better than I did.”

 

            “You didn’t know him?” Rey whispered.

 

            Luke leaned forward and reached for his own mug of tea. “My sister and I, we were raised by our uncle and aunt. Dad was too busy running his company.” He stared up at the photo of Ben. “Old Ben taught me how to grow orchids and how to use a computer. He taught Leia how to debate in mock trial.”

 

            Rey stayed quiet, gripping the mug of tea in her lap.

 

            “My mother…” Luke cleared his throat. “My mother passed away before we really knew her.” Luke looked down at his tea. “Ben died when I was nineteen. Around then, Dad reached out. He offered us the company.”

 

            “You and your sister?” Rey asked.

 

            “Mm-hmm.” He looked towards the front door. “Neither of us wanted it, so Dad had to find someone else to run it. That was the last time we spoke before he died.”

 

            Rey grimaced. “I’m so sorry.”

 

            Luke pressed his lips together. Rey recognized that face: the weary acceptance of never seeing someone again. He shrugged and sighed. “We went through his stuff and…found all these baby photos of us, photos of our mom, pictures of Ben when he was still young. We kept all of it.” He pointed a thumb back towards the greenhouse. “A lot of those orchids are derived from Ben and Dad’s own plants.”

 

            “Where’s your sister?”

 

            “DC,” he responded. “She’s a senator. We don’t talk as much.”

 

            “Oh.” Rey looked down at her toes. The neon blue of her socks was sunny against the white carpet. “What about Kylo?”

 

            Luke seemed to shake himself. “We don’t talk, either,” he responded. “But he did love Dad. He never knew him, he’s too young, but…”

 

            “He runs the company now,” Rey prompted.

 

            “He always wanted to follow in Dad’s footsteps.” Luke gave her a wry smile. “Han hated that.”

 

            _Han._ Another bell, in the back of Rey’s mind. “Han?” she asked.

 

            “Han’s an old friend, too,” Luke said. “We met when Leia and I were still living in Galactic. Swept my sister off her feet.”

 

            _Leia._

_Han._

Rey remembers every detail of that Saturday perfectly:

 

            “They got married?”

 

            It was sunny, and bright, and cold, and it was 2017 and she was in Ach’To with a stranger.

 

            “Yeah, and they had Kylo. Although,” Luke said, “he wasn’t Kylo back then.”

 

            She was wearing a grey sweater and her ripped jeans.

 

            “Who is Kylo Ren?”

 

            She wasn’t breathing.

 

            “I told you, he’s my nephew,” Luke said gently. “He was born Ben Solo. He didn’t call himself Kylo until later.”

 

            At first, Rey did nothing. She sat numb in her chair, feeling the mug scald her palms. She smelled the dirt wafting in from the greenhouse, the smell of the cinnamon tea in the pot between them, the dust on Luke's bookshelves. Luke’s eyes were so blue, and so kind, and so caring.

 

            She dropped her mug. The tea splattered across the carpet, painting it brown. The mug bounced and rolled a few inches on the carpet before stopping. Luke jumped up and ran for the kitchen. In the back of her mind, Rey was running with him, apologizing furiously, wringing her hands of tea. Instead, she stared at the open door to the greenhouse across the room as Luke knelt next to her and blotted up the tea with a damp rag.

 

            “Are you okay?” Luke asked.

 

            Rey’s ears were ringing.

 

            Luke dropped the rag and said, “You’re pale.” He reached for Rey’s wrist, gently touched two fingers to the underside of her wrist. “You have a strong pulse, that’s good,” he murmured to her hand.

 

            Rey finally spoke: “Ben Solo is my soul mate.”

 

            Luke looked up at her with a small smile. “Lucky you,” he said, “Welcome to the family.”

 

            Rey began to cry.

 

            Dimly she registered Luke putting an arm around her shoulders, shushing her gently. He left for a moment while she hiccupped and sobbed, and then he was pressing a tissue box into her hands. He wasn’t even paying attention to the tea.

 

            “What’s wrong?” Luke asked.

 

            “All along,” Rey cried, “all along—“ And she moved the tissue box to the side so she could press her forehead to her knees and let out a wail. She was losing her mind in front of this stranger, but she couldn’t bring herself to care; all she felt was an ache in her chest. She heaved, trying to steady her breathing. Luke rubbed her back.

 

            “Ben never told you,” Luke whispered, understanding in his voice.

 

            “Kylo,” she rasped. “He’s…he’s _Ben_. I…I…he’s supposed to be _dead_!”

 

            Luke said nothing and continued to rub her back.

 

            “And…Luke…this…this whole time, he never…oh God, he never showed me his mark, he said…he said he didn’t _have one_ , he _lied to me_.” Rey pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “He’s…he hurt my _friend_ and this whole _time—_ “

 

            “Rey,” said Luke, “why don’t we go for a walk? The cliffs are nice this time of year.”

 

* * *

 

            She let him help her out of her chair, into her shoes. He fetched her coat and scarf from his closet, even offered her a Coruscant University hat. Rey wordlessly shoved it onto her head.

 

            They walked down a set of wooden steps to the rocks below Luke’s property. Waves crashed up on the cliffside behind them as they tiptoed around the rocks. Rey counted the snails she saw. In the distance was a white beach, abandoned save for a few lonely lifeguard chairs.

 

            Luke said, “In the summer we get whales. They’re rare, but you can see ‘em breaching about ten, twenty miles out.”

 

            “Why did you tell me all that?” Rey whispered. She stopped in her tracks. “Why share your life story with a stranger?”

 

            Luke turned and regarded her for a long time, expression neutral.

 

            Finally, he sighed. “Rey,” he said, “there’s one more thing I have to tell you.”

 

            Rey snorted out a laugh. “It can’t get any worse.”

 

            Luke picked his way over the rocks towards her, hands shoved in his coat pockets. “Ben had a daughter,” he said.

 

            “Hannah,” Rey replied.

 

            “And Hannah had a daughter about twenty years ago.” He stopped in front of her. “Ben’s soul mark said _Rey Kenobi_. Leia and Han, they had the traditional celebration ceremony, where they revealed the name. And Rey,” he said, “if Ben is your soul mate, then I think…”

 

            Rey stared hard at Luke’s rubber boots. “Hannah’s my mother.”

 

            “She surrendered Rey to a foster home,” he said.

 

            “She abandoned me,” Rey spat.

 

            “Hannah couldn’t take care of you.” Luke put his hands on her shoulders. “She…she wanted you to have a good family.”

 

            Rey thought back to the first night in Maz’s home, feeling so small and alone in her giant bed. She had screamed and cried, and immediately the lights had flickered on. Maz was in the doorway holding a glass of warm milk. “Child,” Maz said, with fond exasperation, “surely I’ve found all the monsters under your bed? Nothing escapes my watch.”

 

            Fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

 

            Luke said, “You said your last name was ‘Kanata?’”

 

            “Yeah,” Rey said. “Maz Kanata was my mother.”

 

            Luke shook her shoulder. “Did you like her?”

 

            “I loved her,” Rey whispered.

 

* * *

 

            Luke handed her a box of tea, a photo of Ben Kenobi, and a photo of Hannah. “Don’t be afraid to come back,” he said, out on his front porch. He gave her a hug. “I’m always here.”

 

            She pressed her cheek to his coat and closed her eyes.

 

            Just as he had promised, her bike was where she had left it, chained to the mailbox.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting, everyone! <3
> 
> 10/30: Chapter uploaded.
> 
>  
> 
> **TW for mentions of self-harm in this chapter.**

            Ben Solo was born on a cold November morning to Leia Organa and Han Solo in Hoth Memorial Hospital. The year was 1986. His soul mark was on the inside of his right thigh and read:

 

_Rey Kenobi_

 

* * *

 

            “Who’s that?”

 

            “That’s Grandpa.” Uncle Luke was small and gentle and smelled like tea. He rested his cheek against Ben’s head, pointed to Anakin Skywalker in the photo. Anakin gazed up at Padme with a fond expression. “And that’s Grandma. They loved each other very much.”

 

            Ben placed his tiny palms on Anakin’s face. “Soul mate?”

 

            “Yes, Ben. They were soul mates. Just like you and Rey Kenobi.”

 

            “Ke-no-bi,” Ben said. He ran a finger down Anakin's scar.

 

* * *

 

            Rey picked at her french fries. She was the only one in the Old Anchor, despite it being lunchtime. Fake sailboat paintings hung on the wall.

 

            _Ben Solo._

 

            If her soul mark was on the inside of her left thigh, Kylo’s soul mark would be--

 

* * *

 

            Han crossed his arms and watched Ben through the crack in his bedroom door.

 

            Ben whispered to his teddy bear. “Your name is Rey,” he said, “and I love you.” He adjusted its red bow tie.

 

            Han spoke up. “Hey kiddo. Who are you talking to?” He pushed the door open so his son could see him.

 

            Ben wiped his nose and said—

 

* * *

 

 

            “--Rey,” said the waitress with a smile. “Thanks for coming.”

 

            Rey left a generous tip on the table and gave her a thin smile. “Happy new year.”

 

* * *

 

            Ben wailed against the wall. Blood trickled down from his forehead, over the bridge of his nose, into his mouth.

 

            “Ben, sweetheart,” said Leia, coaxing her own voice into something soft and unhurried, “come on. Let’s get some ice cream.”

 

            He screamed and slammed his head against the wall. There was a dent in the plaster now. Leia, her stomach in knots, rushed forward and gathered the boy up in her arms. Ben went without a fight.

 

            His preschool teacher spoke up behind her. “Is he always like this?”

 

            Leia ignored her and brushed the hair out of Ben’s eyes. He was squinting up at her through the blood. The wildness faded from his face, replaced with something like adoration.

 

            Again, his teacher spoke: “I would really suggest a trip to—“

 

            “Shut up,” Leia snapped. Softly, to her son: “You want ice cream, honey? You don’t have to go back to school today.”

 

            “Yes,” Ben whispered.

 

* * *

 

            Rey grit her teeth against the bracing cold, flying down the bike lane. Route 20 was quiet and wound through the Massachusetts woods; every so often, a car crept up behind her and passed without a fuss. The air smelled like gasoline and frost. A doe stared at her from the sparse twigs on the edge of the road.

 

* * *

 

            Ben hit the tiled ground on his hands and knees. A wad of spit hit the back of his head. He reached back to wipe it off and only succeeded in smearing it in his mop of black hair.

 

            “Fag,” said Bobby from behind him. A hiss from between the older boy’s teeth: _Fffag._ He had just learned it.

 

            “Rey’s a girl,” Ben replied. A few tears dripped down his nose to the floor. He sniffled. “And she loves me.”

 

            “‘Rey’ is a boy’s name,” said a girl from the lockers. “Fag,” she added, as if in afterthought.

 

            Ben clenched his hands against the freckled tile. He focused on his fingernails, worn down to the nub. Dad had taught him how to throw a punch, but no matter how hard he willed himself to rise, he stayed on the hallway floor. There was a dust bunny by his left pinky. He said, “Rey Kenobi is the heiress to the Kenobi School.”

 

            Bobby nudged his foot and snorted. “Who cares?”

 

            Ben heard the other children wander off. The girl from the lockers said, “And who wears their jeans like that, anyway?”

 

            He cleaned himself up in the bathroom and sat through his classes with wet eyes and a scratchy throat. On the way home, Ben sat alone at the front of the bus, clutching his red lunchbox to his chest.

 

            He let himself into the house with his key. His mother was going to be at a gala in Galactic that night; the house smelled like her perfume. His father was still at work. Ben dragged himself to his bedroom, shut the door even though he was alone.

 

            The photo of Anakin and Padme sat on his bedside table. Ben reached past it and took his teddy bear, cradled it to his chest as he stared at the photo of his grandparents.

 

            Ben fell on the carpet and began to cry.

 

* * *

 

            The wind whistled past the holes in Rey’s jeans, cut through her leggings to the skin below.

 

* * *

 

            Ben came home from his fourth grade final math test with a D-.

 

            “It’s no good,” he mumbled against his crossed arms as he rested his chin at the dinner table. Leia flipped through the test while Han picked at his ham.

 

            His father leaned in towards Leia, peered at a word problem as he chewed, open-mouthed, on his food. Leia drew her mouth into a tight line.

 

            Ben blinked and, without moving his head, looked up at his parents. Leia closed the test, looked to Han.

 

            “I think he needs a tutor,” Leia said.

 

* * *

 

            Rey stopped at a gas station to buy coffee. She counted out dimes in her hands.

 

* * *

 

            Ben spent the summer after fourth grade in Uncle Luke’s living room, doing math problems on a white board while his uncle supervised. For every problem he got right, Ben got a star, and for every ten stars, Uncle Luke gave him a candy bar, or some baseball cards, or a new  _The Adventures of Lando_ novel. At two PM, he drove Ben home to the Solo-Organas’ empty house. Ben let himself in with his key and watched cartoons in the twilight until one of his parents came home.

 

            At lunchtime, Luke opened up the greenhouse, and in the greenhouse were orchids. He guided Ben’s hand to their leaves, taught him how often to water the plants, how orchids in shops were in bloom because they were already dying, how a flower didn’t always appear on a plant but that didn’t mean the plants were no good, it just meant they weren’t ready to bloom, and to give them time, and to give them patience and care just the same. He felt something soft and warm in his heart as he worked with Uncle Luke.

 

            On the last day of summer, Ben went home with a purple orchid plant.

 

* * *

 

            Hoth, unlike Ach’To, was a bustling suburb. Dead trees crowded around mismatched houses. Every five buildings was a gas station. Rey lingered at a stoplight, watching families hustle in and out of the local diner. Some waited outside for the waitress and puffed warm air onto their hands. There was a music shop advertising New Year’s guitar lessons. She pedaled past a cemetery.

 

            _GALACTIC,_ said a green sign. Its arrow pointed east.

 

* * *

 

            Ben got a new tutor during fifth grade, a sour-faced man he knew only as Mister Snoke. He was one of the executives currently working at Empire Ventures; Leia, who had sought him out, seemed reluctant as she stepped aside to let him into the living room. Ben looked up from where he was reading comics on the couch.

 

            “You must be Ben,” Mister Snoke said to him, hands clasped in front of his chest.

 

            Ben looked up at him. The man had barely any brown hair left on his head. From behind Mister Snoke, Leia gave Ben a pointed look. Ben sighed.

 

            “Yes, sir,” he said.

 

            “I’m here to tutor you,” said Mister Snoke.

 

            There were no baseball cards, no candy bars, no orchids with his new tutor. No skipping rocks along the beach, or picking for snails in the tide pools while going over fractions. With Mister Snoke there were problem sets thicker than Ben’s comic books, homework for his tutoring sessions in addition to his regular schoolwork. Mister Snoke almost always addressed Ben with detachment or a faint, cold disappointment…until Ben came home from his first math test of the year with an A.

 

            Mister Snoke smiled. “Very good, Ben. I am pleased.”

 

            Ben felt pride in himself for the first time.

 

* * *

 

            Millenium Falcon Cycles was a small white building tucked away in an office park. Its garage door was shuttered for the winter, but there was a handwritten sign in the glass door: “OPEN FOR BUSINESS.” Rey hopped off of her bike and wheeled it towards the entrance.

 

* * *

 

            The next summer with Luke didn’t feel the same. Ben felt wary of his uncle’s sweetness, looked at his gifts with a critical eye. The _Lando_ novels piled up in his room, unread.

 

            One morning, Luke clapped him on the back and reached towards the kitchen counter for a chocolate bar. Ben touched his shoulder.

 

            “I didn’t get that one right,” said Ben.

 

            His uncle furrowed his brow. “It looks okay,” he said. “Any teacher would give that to you. I certainly would.”

 

            “But it wasn’t _right_. Don’t you see?” Ben held up his worksheet. Luke put on his reading glasses again, peered at Ben’s chicken scratch. “It should be three significant figures. I put four by mistake.” Some part of him felt he did it on purpose.

 

            Luke took the paper from Ben’s hands and rested it on the counter. “Who’s teaching you significant figures?” he murmured. “Seems like overkill, don’t you think?”

 

            “Mister Snoke,” said Ben. “My other tutor.” He folded his hands in his lap. “I need to try that problem again.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Somewhere in the shop, a radio played the Rolling Stones. Bikes of all shapes and sizes lined the wall racks; the shop looked smaller from the inside, and here the bikes stretched for ages. One model in a glass case, a forest-green mountain bike, stood proudly in the open center of the store. Stand-alone shelves of spare tires, bike parts, and tools hung around at random intervals. There was no one at the register in the back. Rey paused with her own bike. The air stank of oil; she breathed in the familiar smell, sighed as it pushed thoughts of Ben Solo and Luke Skywalker from her mind.

 

            “Chewie!” barked someone from far away. Rey narrowed her eyes; a door to the back of the shop hung open, its white fluorescent light cutting into Millenium Falcon Cycles’ own lighting. She pushed her bike forward.

 

            She called out, “Hello?”

 

            An impossibly hairy man stuck his head out from around the back doorframe. Rey’s heart seized in her chest.

 

            He looked her up and down. After his quick appraisal, he turned towards an unseen someone and called out in what Rey assumed was some eastern European language.

 

            “A customer?” said the voice from earlier. The hairy man disappeared. Rey craned her neck, tried to see around the corner.

 

            After a beat, an older man lumbered out from the back room, a stern look on his face. He pulled out an unlit cigarette from between his teeth as he made his way over to Rey. “What do you need, kid?” he asked.

 

* * *

 

            “I don’t trust him,” said his father’s voice from behind the bedroom door. “He works for Anakin’s company, Leia.”

 

            Ben pressed his cheek to the door and stared up at the ceiling. Leia sighed deeply.

 

            “Snoke’s helping,” said Leia. “I’ve never seen Ben this happy.”

 

            “He’s a _creep_.”

 

            Leia’s voice rose. “Why are you like this with people you don’t understand?”

 

            “You always have to make this about _my_ moral failings. Is that it, princess?”

 

            Ben looked down at the wood floor. His mother’s voice cracked.

 

            “Can you accept that you’re wrong for once? For one day in your life, can you do what’s best for your child?”

 

            A thump as Han pounded his fist against their dresser. “This _is_ the best thing for Ben! I don’t want him ending up like _Vader_!”

 

            Ben jumped as a crisp sound rung through the air: a slap. “Don’t you talk about my father that way,” Leia hissed.

 

            Han sounded sullen. “Yeah, well, he’s my father too. And _your_ kid.”

 

            Ben pulled away from the door and walked across the hall to his room. On his desk was a worksheet from Mister Snoke. Ben pushed Luke’s baseball cards and his comic books out of the way. He set to work, trying to forget the fear in his father’s voice.

 

* * *

 

 

            Rey gestured towards her bike. “An upgrade,” she said.

 

            The man rested his weight on one foot as he looked down at Rey’s bike. “Bring her here.” He beckoned, rough, with one hand.

 

            She stepped back and watched as he ran his hands over the chain guard, pressed the tires with an experimental thumb. “Your chain needs an oil,” he said. “And these tires are two different sizes.”

 

            “The tires I can deal with.”

 

            “You can’t be serious.” The man pocketed the unlit cigarette and squinted up at her. “Where do you ride?”

 

            “Galactic.” Rey worried at one of her hair buns.

 

            “Jesus. With all those potholes?” He looked back down at the worn chain. “One good bump and this thing will fall apart.” The man stood up and rubbed his hands on his jeans, adding another streak of bike oil to the myriad stains already there. “Come on. Chewie and I will get you set up.”

 

            He turned and walked towards the back room without looking to see if she was following.

 

* * *

 

            “Again, Ben,” said Mister Snoke. They had been working on pre-algebra for five hours; his sixth-grade class was barely on geometry. The sky was black outside.

 

            “I _can’t_ ,” said Ben.

 

            “You can and you will.”

 

            It wasn’t until nine that Mister Snoke finally deemed Ben sufficiently tutored and let himself out. Ben slumped against the kitchen table, forehead pressed to his textbook. Under his sleeves, the razor marks from his earlier bathroom break burned against his wrists.

            

* * *

 

 

           “Chewie” turned out to be the hairy man from earlier. He looked up from where he was hunched over an upturned pedicab’s guts. His long brown hair and braided beard stood out against his stained white tee.

 

            “Let’s get her fixed up, Chewie. Start with replacing that chain.” The gray-haired man clapped her on the back. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll get you Galactic-ready in no time.”

 

            Rey sat on a hard plastic chair, shifted as she tried to get comfortable. Chewie and the gray-haired man flipped her bicycle upside-down and peered at it like surgeons studying their patient. Han settled, cross-legged, on the floor.

 

            She spoke up. “So, um…Chewie—“

 

            “Chewbacca,” said Han. “No one calls him Chewie but me.” Chewbacca made an affirmative sound.

 

            “Chewbacca,” said Rey with a smile. “And, um. What’s your name?”

 

            “Han,” said the gray-haired man as he reached for his toolbox.

 

            Rey’s stomach dropped.

 

            “Han Solo?”

 

            Chewbacca and Han both hesitated in their work. Han looked up at her. “The very same,” he said.

 

* * *

 

            “Mom?” Ben pushed open the door to his mother’s study. “Do you have any-- ”

 

            The study, no more than a walk-in closet off the master bedroom, was empty. Ben shifted from sock-covered foot to sock-covered foot. No matter how many times his mother had let him in here, he always felt as if he were trespassing. The designs on the worn Oriental below him looked like people farming in a field. Leia’s black rolling chair faced Ben from where he stood in the doorway.

 

            Ben ducked under the low doorframe and stepped inside. The white shelves were lined with books, including Leia’s old Nancy Drew novels. On her cluttered wooden desk, next to an Apple II, was a photo of her and Han, laughing and tugging down their shirt collars to reveal their matching soul marks on their collarbones. There was a baby picture of Ben, too: he crawled across a white blanket in front of a nondescript blue background, toothless mouth smiling wide. Ben scratched his head and stared at this photo of himself in miniature. The pose in the photo hid his own soul mark from view.

 

            Ben poked along the shelves. Leia had told him a couple weeks ago that she kept some decent books on American History in her study. Ben’s own paper on the Civil War was stumping him that weekend; now was as good a time as any to enlist his mother’s help. He crouched along the floor to look at the spines below.

 

            _Child Psychology._

Ben raised his eyebrows.

 

            _The Troubled Child: Motivating and Rewarding Children with Anger Issues._

He felt his chest tighten as he ran his fingers along the book covers. _Anger Management for Children. Teaching Children with a Learning Disability._ His hand started to shake. _Bipolar Disorder: What Does It Mean for Your Little One? Positive Reinforcement and the Depressed Child._ On and on like a prison sentence. _Why Does My Child Hurt Himself?,_ and oh, this one stung _especially_ well, Ben stumbled back on the carpet and tugged his sleeves over his wrists like that would shield him from the prying eyes of his infant self in the photo on Leia’s desk, as if he didn’t have evidence that his mother _knew_ what he got up to all alone.

 

            Ben remembered Luke, and the baseball cards, and the delicate way his uncle spoke to him whenever Ben got a problem wrong. Everyone in his family treated him like a livewire. _I don’t want him ending up like Vader!_ screamed his father, as if it wasn’t a tragedy that his grandfather had been sick, as if Anakin hadn’t adored his wife with all of his heart and soul despite—or because of—his brain. The vanity of it all! As if Ben was broken, too. As if he couldn’t feel or love.

 

            He rose to his feet, chest heaving. He blinked away tears. Shoving Leia’s chair out of the way, he tore out of the study and rushed back to his own room, to where his orchid from Uncle Luke sat on his dresser.

 

            One by one, he plucked the petals off, breathing heavy through his nose.

 

            “I hate you,” he said with each petal, “I hate you, I hate you…”

 

* * *

 

            “Do you have a son?” Rey breathed.

 

            Han’s face twisted with anger.

 

            “Gimme a break.” He jabbed a finger at Rey. “You’re just one of those conspiracy nuts, aren’t you?”

 

            Rey fought to speak through the knot in her throat. “I’m Rey Kenobi,” she said. “Your son Ben is my soulmate.”

 

            “Bullshit,” he said. “Where’s your mark?”

 

            “The inside of my left thigh,” she said.

 

* * *

 

            After Mister Snoke went home, Han and Leia sat Ben down in the living room. It was December 17th, 1998, a week before Christmas break. Since he had discovered the books in Leia’s study, Ben had wandered through the fall of seventh grade with an odd, numb feeling in his chest. Even his twelfth birthday was a sad affair; no one had showed up, anyway. The only evidence of normalcy had been his school photo, where he managed a bright smile despite feeling like a stranger in his own home.

 

            “Ben,” said Han. “We, uh.” He scratched his head. “We heard from Uncle Luke.”

 

            “Is this about the tutoring?” Ben asked.

 

            Leia fiddled with her hands in her lap. “Actually, Ben, this is about Rey.”

 

            Ben blinked and straightened up. “What about Rey? Is she okay?”

 

            Han and Leia exchanged looks. It was Han who spoke first.

 

            “We got word from Luke that Hannah Kenobi had a kid. A little girl.”

 

            “Hannah,” said Ben. He leaned forward. “Who’s Hannah?”

 

            Leia said, “Old Ben’s daughter. He was…a family friend.” Leia reached forward, put her hand on Ben’s right knee. “There was an accident.”

 

            “With Hannah?”

 

            Leia’s eyes creased with pain. “With the little girl. She didn’t survive. Stillborn.”

 

            Ben looked from his mother to his father and back. “Rey Kenobi,” he said finally. “The baby. That was Rey.”

 

            Han put his other hand on Ben’s left knee. “We’re sorry, Benny.”

 

            Ben said nothing for a while.

 

            And then he laughed.

 

            “This is a joke, right?” he choked out. “‘Ha ha,’ funny?”

 

            Leia squeezed his right knee. “We know this is hard—“

 

            “Do you?” Ben rose to his feet, legs shaking. “Do you realize what it’s like? To not live for anything? I don’t even have _friends._ And now you’re saying, now you’re saying…” He grabbed the flesh of his right thigh through his baggy jeans. “… _this,_ this means nothing? This is useless?”

 

            Han and Leia were silent. Ben laughed again, ran his fingers through his hair.

 

            He continued, “You’re lying, aren’t you?”

 

            Han stood and held his hands out in front of him. “Benny…”

 

            “No, no, no, don’t _call_ me that!” Ben grabbed a vase and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the living room wall. Han jumped. Ben cried, “You think I’m stupid? You _never_ care about how I feel! You…you think I’m a fucking science experiment!”

 

            “That’s enough!” Leia shouted.

 

            Ben sneered. “Don’t act like I haven’t found the books, Mom.” He felt a surge of vindictive pride at his mother’s shocked expression. “You want to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

 

            Han strode forward and took his son’s wrists. Ben shrieked and kicked, but his father held firm.

 

            “Ben, _stop!”_ said Han. “Cut it out!”

 

            “Cut _what_ out?” Ben looked up at his father, tears pouring down his face. “Me being a fuck-up? A fuck-up without…without a soul mate or _anything_? Who’s a fucking basket case?”

 

            “We’ll get you _help_ ,” said Han, punctuating the last word with a shake of Ben’s wrists. “We’ll get you a shrink.”

 

            Ben slumped to the floor, fight gone. Han released him. Dimly, Ben felt his mother pad over to them.

 

            “I don’t need a shrink,” Ben sobbed. Snot ran from his nose down his chin. He took in a shivering breath. “I don’t need _anything_. Rey’s gone. I don’t care. I don’t care.”

 

* * *

 

            Han blinked. The anger in his face disappated.

 

            “You’re supposed to be dead,” he breathed.

 

* * *

 

            At 2:53 AM on December 18th, 1998, Ben Solo climbed out of his bedroom window. He carried nothing but a backpack with about a week’s worth of clothes, a photo of Anakin and Padme Skywalker, and a teddy bear with a bow tie. Ben Solo walked along Route 20 in the dark, ducking into the trees whenever he heard a car coming. Once the night fell silent again, he emerged and kept walking.

 

            Mister Snoke’s home was a small, tasteful brownstone some towns over from Hoth. The sun was a pink glow on the horizon. The faint roar of cars on the interstate punctuated the morning. Ben took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

 

            After a pause, Mister Snoke answered. He raised his eyebrows at the shivering boy in front of him.

 

            “Mister Snoke,” said Ben. He schooled his voice into politeness, despite the fresh tears threatening to spill. “I don’t want to live at home anymore. This is short notice, but I’d like to live with you from now on.”

 

            The older man said nothing. Beyond him, Ben could see a white corridor leading into a kitchen. The house smelled like coffee.

 

            Mister Snoke smiled, all teeth. “I was waiting for you to say that.”

 

* * *

 

            Rey’s lips parted. For a brief moment, the air left her.

 

            She said, “I was adopted. I’m…I’m really Rey Kanata, but Hannah was my birth mom. Luke Skywalker told me.”

 

            Chewbacca had a somber look on his face; his blue eyes, Rey realized, shone with unshed tears. Han dropped his wrench.

 

            “ _Rey_ ,” he said. “Holy hell.”

 

            Rey shifted in her seat. “I found your son.”

 

* * *

 

            Ben didn’t leave Mister Snoke’s property for months. He learned how medical records could be falsified. He learned what his father looked like when he burst into tears on the 7-o-clock news. He learned that his classmates kind of, sort of, maybe gave a shit now that he was missing. He learned how Mister Snoke sounded when he was telling his parents over the phone that, no, he hadn’t seen little Ben, and that he sent his deepest condolences.

 

            He learned to respond to a new name when Mister Snoke wouldn’t stop calling him it. He learned that if he was well-behaved, he got nice clothes, a gold watch, cufflinks. Fancy things, _good_ things his parents, with Han’s bike shop and Leia’s government job, couldn’t afford. He learned that reading books was a waste of time.

He learned how to take a train by himself, how to navigate upstate New York. He learned the names of his new classmates at boarding school.

 

            Kylo Ren grew up.

 

* * *

 

            Chewbacca looked at Han. Han’s hands fell into his lap. “I know where he is,” said Han. He looked at the toolbox, mouth slightly open. “He, uh. He goes by something different now.”

 

* * *

 

            “Soulmates are a waste of potential, Kylo Ren,” Snoke told him when he came home for the holidays. The older man piled Kylo’s plate high with turkey. “You are better off without this girl.”

 

            Kylo took his plate, held it close to his chest. “My grandfather,” Kylo said. “He had a soulmate. Padme.”

 

            “Ah. Your _grandfather_. Darth Vader.”

 

            “No one calls him Darth Vader,” Kylo murmured.

 

            “No one you know, boy.” Snoke sat down and took the bowl of mashed potatoes, spooned a heaping serving onto his own plate. “Vader only became great when he let his soulmate go.” He spread his hands. “Look at me, Kylo. I don’t have a soulmate. Would you consider me a failure?”

 

            Kylo stared hard at his Rolex, still too heavy for his skinny wrist. The faces of his parents on that final December night two years prior swam into his head.

 

            Rey was alive; Kylo knew this as instinctively as he knew the beat of his own heart and the way his hair fell when he ran his hand through it. Staring at his own face in the reflection of the watch, he vowed to find her.

 

            “No, sir,” he said. “You’re right.”

 

* * *

 

            “Hold on,” Rey said, leaning forward. “You know about Kylo.”

 

* * *

 

            His eighteenth birthday came with a small envelope from Snoke. It contained the following:

 

  * A check for five hundred dollars;
  * The address to a Vanishing Act office down the road from Coruscant University’s Tekka Hall, where Kylo lived;
  * A note that his appointment to remove Rey’s name was scheduled for five PM that day.



 

            Kylo’s heart sank as he read Snoke’s elegant cursive. _It is time, Kylo Ren, that you became a man,_ said his card. _Release your past and go free. Vader would want the same._

For years, he had stared at his soulmark before bed. Kylo knew how to trace the script on his thigh without looking: _Rey Kenobi_ , Rey Kenobi, a spectre, something Kylo held close even as he pressed through boarding school, even as Snoke held him at arm’s length unless they were talking money or math or Vader, even as Kylo realized at his first Coruscant University party that he hadn’t been touched by another person in months, if not years, and never with romantic intent. Everyone avoided the brooding man in the corner; it wasn’t as if Snoke would allow him to go home with someone, anyway. Kylo was not permitted to date.

 

            Now, in the privacy of his single dorm room, Kylo touched his leg, just over the soul mark. He let out a shuddering breath.

 

            All day he sat on his bed, jiggling his foot and chain-smoking. At four-thirty, he pulled on a hoodie and wandered down the street, shivering in the cold. Commuters and students looked away as he strode towards the tiny Vanishing Act shop. He stared at his own reflection in the window of the store.

 

            _DEFY FATE_ , said the glass.

 

            Kylo’s brown eyes looked dead in the yellow glow of the street light.

 

            _Ben,_ said a voice inside his head: a woman, someone he didn’t recognize. _Ben…_

_Ugly boy,_ he thought to himself. He blinked hard; the tired man in the reflection disappeared for a second before reappearing. Someone in the shop turned to look at him, raised an eyebrow.

 

            Kylo took one step back.

 

            Then another.

 

            Then another.

 

            He turned and sprinted down the street, past Tekka Hall, past Eclipse Square, onward and onward, through Coruscant, then through the worn-down streets of the Outer Rim until he found himself at a shitty bar. The bouncer let him in without looking at him. It took all of his strength to push through the crowd and order a whiskey.

 

            That drink went down. He ordered again.

 

            Gone went the second whiskey. He waved the bartender down.

 

            Three, four. The DJ kept playing country music. Everyone sang along. Kylo clung to the glass. Five. Someone was talking to him. Six.

 

            He found himself getting blown by a pretty girl in the single-stall bathroom out back. He let out a shuddering moan and rolled his hips. The girl increased her speed. Had anyone ever kissed him before? He couldn’t remember. He laced his hands through the girl’s hair. What was he supposed to be doing again? Who was this?

 

            Was it Rey?

 

            Rey?

 

            “Rey,” he sighed, and came in the girl’s mouth.

 

            The girl spat his release into the toilet and glared at him. “Who the fuck is Rey?” she asked.

 

            Kylo reached out to brush her cheek with his hand, but she shoved it away.

 

            “Wait,” Kylo said, “don’t you…? I can…wait.” His words slurred heavy on his tongue.

 

            “Nice meeting you,” said the girl.

 

            She stood, adjusted her skirt, and left him alone with his pants around his ankles.

 

* * *

 

            Han ran a hand through his hair. “Leia and I were already separated. This was in 2013, about. There was an article in the _Daily Galactic_ about it: Empire Ventures had a new CEO, and a new CFO.”

 

            Rey leaned forward and wrung her hands.

 

* * *

 

            His summer internships at Empire Ventures introduced him to a man named Armitage Hux.

 

            Hux worked in the scientific research department as a junior consultant. He had just graduated from Galactic Tech with a chemical engineering degree. Whenever he saw Kylo having lunch alone in the company cafeteria, he put down his tray in front of him and began to talk in his thick accent.

 

            Slowly, they bonded. Hux had a funny warmth to him, an awkward, grasping sort of affection in the way his mouth pursed into a moue when he saw Kylo at the local Starbucks every morning. He asked how Kylo liked Coruscant University, what classes was he taking, Hux was thinking of his MBA there himself, did he have any professors he recommended? The man was delighted when Kylo told him he knew Snoke, now Empire’s CFO, personally. Palpatine, the CEO, was growing old, and Hux told Kylo that he had heard from Mitaka who heard from someone else that Palpatine was considering Snoke for an heir.

 

            “The nepotism works in your favor,” said Hux over the cafeteria table. “Get a promotion once you graduate.” That’s how he spoke to Kylo, with a teasing undercut of venom that felt soothing compared to Snoke.

 

* * *

 

            Han continued, “And…there was this kid, in the photo with the new CEO. I looked at him and thought, no, it couldn’t be. And I called Leia and it turns out she had the same thought.”

 

            Chewbacca handed Han a screw. Han leaned towards the bike and grabbed his wrench. “We knew that was Ben. You can’t forget your son’s face. For me, it was the hair. Leia said the moles did it for her. He looked…dead, somehow.”

 

* * *

 

            During the school year, over weekly happy hours, he learned that Hux grew up poor in a single-parent household, that his own father had been small fry at Empire before he got fired. Hux didn’t know who his mother was. Kylo said he didn’t know who his mother was, either. In the bathroom at the Empire Christmas party, Hux showed him the soul mark on his wrist:

 

_Christine Phasma_

“The receptionist?” Kylo whispered.

 

            “Can you believe?” Hux let his shirt sleeve fall over his wrist. _Christine Phasma_ disappeared. “Where’s yours?”

 

            Kylo hesitated. Hux’s blue eyes were expectant.

 

            “My thigh,” he said finally.

 

            Hux let out a thoughtful _hmm_ , leaned against the sinks. “Intimate.”

 

            “I’ve never met her.”

 

            “Do you want to?”

 

            That was a question he had never been asked in his life. Kylo shoved his hands in his suit pockets. Someone from accounting pushed past them to get to the paper towels.

 

            “I don’t know,” he said finally.

 

* * *

 

            “So I did some asking around and got this guy’s office number.” Han gestured with his hands. “And I sat down and smoked maybe…” He waved a hand. “Ten cigarettes before I hit ‘call.’ And…and Ben answered. I heard his voice and started to cry. Just like a baby.”

 

* * *

 

            After Kylo graduated, Hux asked Phasma to drinks. Kylo watched as his only friend brought this girl to their happy hours, to their movie nights, and felt a low burn of jealousy in his gut at the woman’s confident smile. They were all around the same height, but Phasma had a way of making him feel small, even as they got along perfectly. Hux looked up at her with pride in his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

            “I said, ‘Ben, is that really you?’ And I’ll never forget the pause that came after. I was about to hang up when he finally goes, ‘What are you talking about?’ He sounded…angry.”

 

* * *

 

 

            After Phasma’s funeral, Hux sobbed into Kylo’s shoulder. They were in Kylo’s apartment; Kylo was months away from finishing his MBA. Hux’s hands clung, white-knuckled, to Kylo’s dress shirt. Kylo stared out the window at the Coruscant skyline. Their black suits were wrinkled.

 

            “ _I_ did this,” Hux sobbed. “If I hadn’t…let her…”

 

            Kylo reached out, rubbed Hux’s back with a tentative hand. “Shhhh,” he said.

 

            Hux shook his head. “Fuck!”

 

            “Shhhh.”

 

            Hux pulled away from Kylo’s shoulder. His eyes were red-rimmed, full of anger even as tears continued to pour down his cheeks.

 

            Kylo stared at his friend, at the way his high cheekbones flushed red with both the alcohol and the mourning. He smoothed a lock of red hair out of the way. Hux’s breath hitched.

 

            He leaned down and kissed his friend. Hux let out a soft noise of surprise, then wound his hair through Kylo’s hair and kissed him back, as gently and passionately as if he were Phasma.

 

            It was Kylo’s first kiss.

 

* * *

 

            Han reached in to fix a broken spoke on Rey’s back wheel. He kept talking. “And I said, ‘Ben, this is your father.’ And all he said was, ‘Never call me again.’ Before I could say anything, there was the dial tone.”

 

* * *

 

            Kylo didn’t think about how Hux sighed and murmured endearments when they fucked. He didn’t think about how one night, a few months after the funeral, Hux whispered _Christine_ against his shoulder. This man taught him how to kiss, how to blow someone, how to take and receive, how hard he could come, what an orgasm looked like on someone else’s face. He watched his friend visit Phasma’s grave at least twice per week, listened to Hux complain about how the groundskeepers weren’t paying attention to the dahlias he planted next to her tombstone. He helped Hux through the mourning period with stoic silence and affection, and (so it felt) Hux repaid him in full: with his body, with career advice, with his own refusal to talk about _Rey Kenobi_ on Kylo’s thigh.

 

            One night in Hux’s bed, Hux took a drag on his cigarette, turned to him, and said, “Can we keep this casual?”

 

            Kylo traced designs on Hux’s belly. “Sure,” he said.

 

            Hux closed his eyes, turned away. “Thank you.”

 

            Kylo tapped out his own cigarette and didn’t think about how Hux had called him _boyfriend_ the day prior.

 

* * *

 

            Chewbacca stood and cracked his back.

 

            “Did you ever speak to him again?” she asked.

 

* * *

 

            Snoke became CEO. Empire Ventures became First Order Ventures.

 

            At age 27, Kylo Ren took Snoke’s place as CFO.

 

            “My masterpiece,” Snoke said to him at the celebration party.

 

            Kylo said nothing.

 

* * *

 

            Han shook his head.

 

* * *

 

            “You still have it,” Snoke said. His voice was dangerously quiet.

 

            Kylo stared at the floor. “Yes, sir.” He braced himself for the slap.

 

* * *

 

            Rey looked down at the floor. “When Kylo and I started dating,” she said, and this made Han look up at her, “I didn’t know. He said he didn’t have a soul mate.”

 

            Han sighed through his nose. “He wouldn’t have removed the mark. I know Ben. That mark was his life.”

 

* * *

 

            The Vanishing Act by Tekka Dorm had closed and become a frozen yogurt shop. When Kylo Googled it, he learned that the only Vanishing Act in the city was across the river, all the way down in southern Galactic, in Jakku. Kylo scoffed. Jakku was a low-income neighborhood, one he’d never had to visit; he’d be lucky if he didn’t get mugged. Charmingly enough, the shop told him over the phone that he had to visit in-person to book an appointment, given that his mark was in a sensitive place.

 

            Kylo schooled himself into apathy as he drove to the Vanishing Act before work. He still had Hux when this was over and done with, and “Rey Kenobi” didn’t ever come up on a Google search.

 

            He parked a few blocks down from the Vanishing Act, across the street from a place called the Outpost Café. Kylo rested his hand against his chin and watched the people going in and out: the crust punks, the minority families, the college students.

 

            He got out of the car and walked across the street.

 

* * *

 

            “What are you talking about?”

 

            “He always thought you were out there waiting for him. When…when Luke told us that you died, we told Ben, and he went ballistic.” Han stood and gave her back wheel a spin. “That was the last night I saw him. I still blame myself.” He put his hands in his pockets, watched the wheel slow to a stop. “If I had lied to him, maybe he’d still be around. He loved you.”

 

* * *

 

            He couldn’t tear himself away; it was like a sickness.

 

            A cursory Facebook search revealed a Rey Kanata, who worked both at the Outpost and a pizza company on the side. No college education listed, Jakku High Class of 2014. Kylo counted backwards through his head as he clicked through pictures of her and a 'Finn Storme.'

 

            If she was seventeen in spring 2014…that made her ten in 2007…which meant she was born in 1997.

 

            With shaking hands, he picked up the 12-sided Rubix cube on his coffee table and fiddled with it. She was a year older than the baby Hannah Kenobi had had; Rey Kenobi should be eighteen, had she been born in December 1998. The initials were the same, the first names were the same, and yet, and yet…

 

            He threw the cube against the wall.

 

* * *

 

            “Don’t say that,” Rey murmured. “It wasn’t your fault.”

 

            Han snorted. “Thanks, kid.”

 

* * *

 

            He sat in the waiting room of the Jakku Vanishing Act. His foot tapped over and over on the tile floor. An older woman was writing a check at the counter. It was dark outside, and cold.

 

            A bearded man emerged from the back and called him up. Kylo was led into a back room. A blinding lamp was focused on the legs of a reclining chair.

 

            “Inside thigh?” the man said.

 

            “Yes,” said Kylo. “Right here.” He tapped the soft flesh of his right thigh.

 

            “Well, get those pants off. Let’s make it happen.” The man slapped Kylo on the back, just like Luke. Kylo stumbled, but before he could say anything, he refocused and saw the man already prepping his tools.

 

            He peeled off his jeans and sat on the chair. His ankles hung off the edge, even as Kylo rested the bottom of his head against the top of the headrest. He opened his legs, glanced down.

 

            _Rey Kenobi_ , said his thigh.

 

            “Stop,” said Kylo.

 

            The man paused in cleaning the tattoo needle. “Huh?”

 

            “I don’t want this,” Kylo said. He stared hard at the mark. “I want to keep it.”

 

            The man shook his head and placed his rag down. “You know you still—“

 

            “Have to pay full price. I know.” Kylo swung his legs off the side. “I’ll do so. Thank you for your time.”

 

            After writing a two-hundred dollar check, Kylo hustled out into the streets of Jakku. He stopped, looked around. It was eight PM.

 

            He began to walk.

 

            The moon crept across the sky as Kylo made his way through the neighborhood, up and up to Tatooine just north. People stared at him, stared at his fine coat and polished shoes. His eyelids drooped; he ignored them. At one point he found himself in a park, sitting on the playground swings. He got up and looped back down to Jakku. Stores closed around him. He kept going, the burn in his legs turning to numbness as he walked, _Rey Kenobi_ freezing to ice against his jeans.

 

            Kylo turned a corner and stopped.

 

            In front of him was the Outpost, and inside, a few lights were on: a bright beacon in the pre-dawn gloom.

 

            The girl was counting cash at the register.

 

            Kylo pressed his palm to his leg. _Rey Kenobi._ His fingers were numb; when did that happen?

 

            He put one leaden foot in front of the other, again and again, until he was standing right at the entrance. Rey hadn’t noticed him yet, turned around to scoop ice into a clear cup. Kylo rested his palm against the door. She walked to the espresso machine and pressed something.

 

            Kylo rapped his knuckles against the glass: _tap tap tap._

 

            Rey looked up.

 

            “Are you open?” he asked.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good God, leave it to me to wait over a month to update. As always, thanks for being patient, guys!
> 
> 12/16: Chapter uploaded.  
> 12/17: Minor edits for consistency.

            “On the house, kid,” said Han with a wave of his hand. Chewbacca slapped Rey on the back; the air left her lungs in a _whoosh._

Han stuck a cigarette in his mouth. He fished in his pocket for a lighter and sparked it. The set of his jaw, the purse of his lips, the way he guarded the cigarette tip as he lit it: all Kylo. All Ben Solo.

 

            On the exhale, he mumbled, “Family discount.”

 

* * *

 

            The Hoth bus station was barely nicer than the Ach’To station. A scrolling letter display said her bus would arrive at 7:20 PM. The vending machine didn’t have any sour cream potato chips, so Rey settled for a candy bar. She jiggled her foot against the tiled floor. The ticket clerk scrolled through their phone, one hand resting against their cheek. A small boy across the room stared at her bike.

 

            Rey felt a buzz in her pocket.

 

            _Hey peanut, when are you coming home? Everything ok?????_

Rey looked up at the ceiling. A light flickered a staccato beat above her. She texted back:

 

            _a lot’s going on. im okay. coming back from hoth on bus 2106._

 

            Finn’s response was instantaneous:

 

            _what happened??_

She hesitated.

 

            _kylo’s ben solo._

Her phone rang: Finn’s number. She silenced it. Finn replied via text:

 

            _what the fuck!_

She answered: _long long story. im really angry._

Rey switched from Finn’s texts to Kylo’s. Aside from his feeble New Year’s text, they hadn’t spoken once since he assaulted Finn at the Outpost. She texted him:

 

            _I’m coming over at 8:30 pm._

She sat back against her seat and bit at a hangnail on her pinky. A small line appeared below her text: _Read 7:15 PM._

* * *

 

            Hux sneered around his cigarette. “Soul marks are trouble,” he growled. “Christine got into this mess because of it.” He didn’t specify what “this mess” was.

 

           He yanked the cigarette out of his mouth. "Stay away from her," he said to Kylo. "I won't lose you, too."

 

* * *

 

            Rey hopped off the bus one stop early, at Coruscant Station. She tripped over herself in her haste to get to the front bumper and unlock her bike. The driver, an old black woman, watched as Rey undid her lock with shaking hands and set it down on the street. In the winter night, Coruscant was a generous twenty degrees. Rey could see her air come out in thick puffs as she mounted her bike and began to ride.

 

* * *

 

            _Even you, Master of the Knights of Ren..._

He killed him.

 

Now, the girl in the snow spit out blood.

 

            Kylo woke up screaming.

 

* * *

           

            Han was right: her chain _had_ needed some TLC, and the mismatched wheels had caused her to favor the wrong thigh muscles. Now Rey shot down the roads in Coruscant, weaving between the Saturday night traffic. She inched between pedestrians leaning out into the road for taxis. One of her buns loosened, fell free and waved behind her. The spokes no longer hit against each other, _tck tck tck tck tck_ , In her frustration, she pulled all of her buns free and tossed the elastics. Rey had a much easier time moving her feet in that familiar rhythm, _up down up down up down._ Her heart wouldn’t stop thundering with something other than exertion.

 

            Kylo was Ben Solo.

 

            She had found her soul mate.

 

* * *

 

            Poe’s voice was soft, insistent. “Hey, man.”

 

            Finn was already yanking the door open. He paused.

 

            “Don’t,” Poe said. Finn could hear the anger in his voice: anger at Kylo, anger at the bruise on Finn’s back. “I’m not going to lose you _and_ Rey. Stay home.”

 

* * *

 

            And now, white-knuckled on her handlebars, a burn in her thigh muscles as she ran red lights and braced herself against the chill, Rey was _angry_.

 

            She tapped her heel against her pedal as she waited for some pedestrians to cross. She was just blocks from Eclipse Square, and early besides, but having to stop, even for a second, threw more anxiety into her blood. Once the last college student walked past her, Rey pushed forward. The skyscrapers grew taller and taller until she rounded a corner and there it was.

 

            Rey forced herself to lock her bike with care, her hands shaking. Her toes were numb. The doorman craned his neck to watch her.

 

            She ran to him. Below her was a red rug: _1101 Eclipse Square_ , in script, her right toe partially obscuring _Square._ The great mirrored building above her suddenly seemed so pathetic. Kylo was hiding somewhere in there.

 

            “Kylo Ren is expecting me,” she blurted. “I’m Rey. Rey Kanata?”

 

            “I remember you,” the doorman said with a smile. “One moment.”

 

            He turned and walked into the lobby. Rey craned her neck to watch as he swerved towards the receptionist and disappeared from view. After a few minutes, he came back out. “Mister Ren will let you up—“

 

            Rey shoved past him, past the revolving glass doors. A fire roared in the lobby fireplace. She made for the elevators and slammed the “up” button.

 

            The elevator smelled sterile, the kind of pleasant but bland cleanliness one associated with hotels. How had she not noticed that smell before? She pressed _49_. The elevator doors creaked shut, and for thirty seconds Rey had nothing to look at but her own flushed cheeks and heaving chest. Her ears popped as the elevator shot upwards.

 

            She didn’t wait for the elevator to properly open onto 49 and squeezed through the doors. The long, dim hallway to Kylo’s apartment was as silent as always. Now that she was here, she slowed down and trudged towards room 4910.

 

            Rey hesitated there. Like a child, she pressed her ear to the door, listened for Kylo inside. No sound. Maybe the doors were too thick. The apartment may as well have been a fortress.

 

            She knocked.

 

            Nothing happened for a while. Rey shrugged her coat off, stopped when she was going to take her arm out of her left sleeve, and shrugged it back on. A door down the hall opened and shut. She bounced on her toes.

 

            A lock came loose. The door opened.

 

* * *

 

            “You’re a very good boy, Kylo Ren.”

 

* * *

  

            Kylo was barefoot and dressed more casually than Rey had ever seen him. His sweatpants hung loose around his waist. His collarbone was exposed in the black thermal he was wearing. A hint of stubble on his chin suggested he hadn’t been shaving as closely as he normally did.

 

            Rey froze.

 

            Kylo blinked. “Rey,” he said.

 

            The moment broke, and he turned back to his apartment, opening the door further so she could follow him in. “Welcome,” he said. “Make yourself at home.”

 

            Kylo’s running shoes were missing from under the foyer bench. There were dishes in the sink. Rey let the door swing shut behind her and jumped when it _banged_ against the doorframe. Kylo settled down on a couch, bare feet propped against the coffee table, and picked up a twelve-sided Rubix cube. He fiddled with it. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice flat. “I should have cleaned.”

 

            The kitchen orchids were dead in their vase, shedding petals onto the countertop. Rey stared at them. Her coat and shoes were still on.

 

            “Rey, are you hungry?”

 

            She felt her breath come hot and quick as she traced the crooked stems with her eyes.

 

            “I could cook you something. Let’s see what we have in the fridge.”

 

            Rey tightened her fists, squeezed until it hurt. The orchid petals had turned brown in their neglect, the rich purple now an afterthought in the middle.

 

            Kylo set the cube down. “I can’t remember if—“

 

            “Ben Solo.”

 

            Kylo didn’t look at her as he replied, “Yes, you told me, the boy who disappeared. I remember.”

 

            “No.” She couldn’t keep her voice from turning tight around the edges. “You’re Ben Solo. It was you the entire time.”

 

            Kylo paused in pushing himself off the couch. Rey glanced over; the tilt of his head told her he was listening.

 

            “You lied to me,” she growled.

 

            Kylo said nothing and remained still.

 

            “You…you told me you d-didn’t have a mark. You told me you didn’t have…have a soulmate. You had sex with me,” and here her voice broke and turned thin, “you were my first time, and you bought me _beautiful_ things, and this entire time you were _lying_.”

 

            Rey sniffled and wiped at her eyes with a fist. Kylo looked up at the ceiling, looked down at the hardwood floor.

 

            He said, “Ben Solo is dead.”

 

            “Shut _up_!” Rey couldn’t stop herself from screaming. “You _lied_ to me! Stop it!”

 

            “Calm down, Rey,” said Kylo.

 

            “You…you…” Rey strode across the floor, and the sound of her footsteps spurred Kylo to his feet. He stood firm, showing no emotion, and Rey stopped in the middle of the living room, tears streaking down her face.

 

            “Your parents are _looking_ for you!” She couldn’t recognize the hoarseness in her throat. Fury burnt holes in her lungs. “You _chose_ to become someone else, and you _chose_ to take this from me when it’s the only fucking thing I have!”

 

            Kylo blinked hard. “Ben Solo is dead,” he repeated, like a robot that wouldn’t work, and Rey strode the last few feet to him and clawed his cheek with a roar.

 

            He reeled back, clutching the gauge she had made in his skin. She felt like an animal thing, heaving and slouched, blood under her fingernails. Kylo shook himself where he stood and stared at the floor.

 

            “You’re a fucking liar, _Ben_ ,” she snarled. “And a selfish man.”

 

            Her phone buzzed in her pocket; she ignored it.

 

            “You don’t know the first thing about me.” Kylo’s voice had become ragged around the edges, just like hers; when he looked up, she saw her own wildness mirrored in his eyes. Her chest swelled with vindictive pride.

 

            “ _Ben Solo_ ,” she spat.

 

            “ _Stop calling me that!”_ Kylo screamed.

 

            “That’s who you are!” she screamed back. “You’re Ben Solo! You are my soulmate and _I hate you for what you did and I’ll always hate you!_ ”

 

            “I’m not Ben Solo!” This was the loudest she had ever heard him. He bared his teeth. “ _I’m not Ben Solo!_ ”

 

            Rey staggered backwards, spreading her arms wide. “Who are you, then?” She bumped into the long black table under the mirror. The photo of Anakin jumped. Rey snatched it up, showed it to him. “Is this who you want to be?”

 

            Kylo took a few steps forward. He raised his hand towards her, all the anger disappated like smoke. “Don’t touch that,” he said. His eyes were wide.

 

            “What, your grandfather?” Rey held the picture high. Kylo followed it with his hand. Blood dried to maroon on his cheek.

 

            “Don’t _touch_ that,” he said, voice breaking at the edges. He was _afraid._

Rey didn’t care.

 

            “You want to be this, don’t you? The wealthiest man in the world? Pretty, perfect wife you can treat like a doll?” She sneered at him. “This is why you ran away.”

 

            “You were—I never—Don’t _touch him like that—_ _"_

 

            “You’ll _never_ have this,” she snapped. “You’re sick and you’re a _liar_ and you’re going to be all alone with all your _stupid_ money and your _stupid_ apartment!”

 

            Rey threw the image to the floor. Kylo leapt forward, but the frame bounced off his hands and landed hard. Glass shattered across the floor. The frame split at the edges, leaving the worn photograph vulnerable.

 

            Kylo fell to his knees and pushed aside the glass, trying to get at the photograph. Shards stuck in his fingers. His face was manic as he dropped blood, _plop plop plop,_ onto his grandfather’s face.

 

            Rey nudged the glass with her foot.

 

            “I’m not coming back,” she told him. He hunched over the photo, protective, staring hard at it. “Don’t ever call me again.”

 

            “Get out.” Kylo’s voice was a whisper.

 

            “Fuck you, Ben.”

 

            Kylo covered the photo with his bloody hands. His shoulders trembled. “Get out,” he hissed.

 

            Rey stared at Kylo.

 

            She took a step back.

 

            She walked into the foyer.

 

            She left just as the first sob filled the air.

 

* * *

 

            Sunday morning was dull and gray. The nail salon across the street still had its Christmas lights up. The students living above the Outpost took their menorah out of their window. The sole Outpost customer didn’t complain when Rey played the same Bon Iver song twice. Finn was closing out his register. She rested her cheek on her hand as she looked up soul mark removal services on her phone.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience and kind words, as always. You guys brighten my day. <3

            She stumbled out of 1101 Eclipse Square and broke down.

 

* * *

 

            Poe came in around nine. Finn made him a latte, brought it to his table, and slipped a dog biscuit to BB8. Poe whispered something to Finn, and the two of them turned to stare at Rey. She gave a faint little wave. Poe smiled and wiggled his fingers. Finn kissed Poe on the forehead; the familiar gesture used to fill Rey with envy, but now it just made her feel cold. She didn’t have a soulmate, anyway; she never did.

            She went back to her phone. Services started at two-hundred dollars, and she’d have to book in-person, since the mark was in a sensitive place…

 

            “Rey,” called Teedo. “If you do the dishes, I’ll give you the rest of the eggplant fries!”

 

            “Yeah, coming!” She dropped her phone on the counter. As Finn made his way back to his register, he slapped her on the back. The kitchen door swung shut behind her.

 

            She spent a full minute hosing down the dishes. Teedo was playing Taylor Swift. Kylo had cut his hands open rooting around the glass. Someone’s ketchup had caked on the plate because they hadn’t washed it off. She reached for the soap pump. If she concentrated hard enough, she could _hear_ how his tears sounded hitting the photograph. What had she done? She scrubbed at the ketchup. What had she done? The sink needed to be bleached after her shift. She made a note to tell Teedo. What had she _done_?

 

            “Are you Finn Storme?”

 

            She dropped the plate she was holding.

 

            Finn: “I should have you banned, man.” Pure ice.

 

            “I know. I’m truly sorry.”

 

            Rey cracked open the kitchen door.

 

            Finn crossed his arms and stared down his nose at Kylo. Kylo’s cheek was bandaged where Rey had hurt him; patchy concealer tried and failed to obscure the edges. The two men, with only the register between them, made steady eye contact. Kylo’s hands curled into fists at his side.

 

            “I’d like to make it up to you,” Kylo said. “A man of your talents is wasted here.”

 

            “Yeah?” said Finn. “How do you know?”

 

            “I discovered your LinkedIn,” said Kylo, reaching into his pocket. Rey’s stomach dropped, until his hand withdrew and he was only holding a business card. What had she expected? “Your resume is impressive. I could use an assistant.”

 

            He held out the card. Rey wondered if it was his personal one or his official one.

 

            Finn eyed the card and said nothing for a while. The only sound in the café was Iron and Wine. Poe glared at Kylo from across the room.

 

            Finn said, “I’m not sure if I want to work for a guy who has a record of assault.”

 

            Kylo’s shoulders rounded, but he kept his voice level. “Please think about it. This is the best way to reach me.” Finally, finally, Finn took the card. Kylo jammed his hands in his coat pockets and watched Finn turn the card over and over. “We have competitive benefits and salary. Free lunches. We pride ourselves on taking good care of our employees and boast a high retention rate. And.” Kylo nodded to the card. “We could use a man with a thesis on medical technology in foreign markets.”

 

            Rey’s lips parted. Finn had broken himself trying to write that thesis. His professors had told him he couldn’t do it; he pulled all-nighters while the rest of his friends went to senior parties and dances, had even cried on Rey’s shoulder more than once. He posted the thesis in full on his LinkedIn, just to prove he had done it.

 

            Kylo was trying to _help_ Finn. This was his apology.

 

            Finn snorted as he pocketed the card. “I’ll think about it.” But Rey saw his cheeks darken, and when Finn looked up at Kylo again, his eyes were softer. “Email or phone?”

 

            “Phone is better.” Kylo went back into his pocket, withdrew a crumpled piece of paper from it. “This is for Rey,” he murmured. He thrust it at Finn.

 

            Finn pocketed this, too, without taking his eyes off of Kylo. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”

 

            Kylo raised a feeble fist. “Go Hawks.”

 

            Finn’s mouth twitched. He lifted his fist, bumped Kylo’s. “Go CU, man.”

 

            Kylo turned and rushed out of the café, head down. Rey burst out of the kitchen, ignoring Teedo’s complaints. “Give me that,” she said to Finn.

 

            Finn held up a placating hand as he dug out the crumpled note. Rey smoothed it out on the espresso bar. In pencil, it said:

 

            _I’M SORRY._

 

* * *

 

            Rey had to wait another week before she had a night to herself. Snow fell onto her beanie as she weaved through Naboo on her bike. She stopped at a juice bar, stared at the pale girls making smoothies there. Her stomach growled. There were only ten dollars in her pocket. She shook her head and pushed forward.

 

            The used bookstore was right where she left it: a rusty dent in the brownstones. She locked her bike on the parking meter outside and descended the steps. The bell over the door chimed when she entered.

 

            A bearded man looked up from the register. Rey trotted to the front counter and tapped her gloved hands on it. “Do you know any good fantasy novels?”

 

            He raised his eyebrows. “Depends on what you’re looking for,” he said. “Robots, dragons…?”

 

            Rey squeezed her eyes shut. None of the news articles said what kind of books Ben Solo liked to read. “Uh. What’s…” She gestured. “What’s the top ten?”

 

            The bearded man smiled. He crossed his arms on the counter and leaned against them. His nametag said _Blue_. “Bestsellers right now?”

 

           1998. “What was popular in the early nineties?”

 

            “Ooh.” Blue walked out from behind the counter and gestured for Rey to follow. The bookstore’s fantasy section was in the back corner; a stuffed dragon watched them with its button eyes as Blue picked through the shelves.

 

            “Here we go.” He deposited a paperback in her waiting hands. _The Adventures of Lando,_ said the cover, _The Forbidden Caves of Vergesso_. A black man pointed an alien blaster into the distance, a smirk on his handsome face.

           

            Blue tapped the cover. “They must’ve made a billion of the Lando books in the late eighties, early nineties. There was a TV show and everything. I read ‘em all twice.”

 

            “Can you do two for ten?” she said. “Give me the best ones.”

 

* * *

 

            Rey pushed the bag of books towards 1101's receiptionist. “For Kylo Ren,” she said. “Tell him they’re from Rey.”

 

            A note inside the bag read: _I’m sorry, too._

 

* * *

 

            The TSA guard looked downright bored. Rey craned her neck and tried to peer over the crowds as she was wanded down. The airport was loud and overwhelming; passenger chatter echoed across the ticket booths and baggage claims, drowned out Poe’s interview advice. Her hands shook as someone barked at her to take her bracelets off. Next to her, BB8 sat and blinked while a shorter man felt around her vest. Poe checked his watch.

 

            “Is it always this intense?” Rey blurted. The TSA guard gave her a wry smile.

 

            Poe called out, “Airport virgin, Theresa. Go easy on her.”

 

            Theresa, the guard, threw back her head and laughed. She patted Rey on the back. “Go on ahead, honey. Don’t let Poe wine and dine you.”

 

            Rey stuttered out a thanks and took BB8’s leash. The husky bumped against her leg. The other guard, whose nametag said _Nian_ , couldn’t help but ruffle BB8’s fur as they passed.

 

            She and Poe moved through Terminal A’s Tuesday bustle. In the dark of her apartment that morning, she had rifled through the bags of clothes Kylo bought for her, found a pink blazer that matched her black dress from high school. WikiHow told her that she should avoid jewelry for job interviews, but she couldn’t help but put on Finn’s Christmas gifts for good luck. Now, keeping pace beside Poe’s wheelchair, her hands shook as she pushed the bracelets back onto her wrist.

 

            “Ello’s one of our older pilots,” Poe said. He had given this speech to Rey ten times prior, but she listened anyway. “Served in the Air Force forty years, and he’s older than dirt. He’s like a mentor to me.” He looked up at Rey. “You’re gonna charm him just by existing, but don’t let him get away without making him tell you the North Dakota story.”

 

            “About how one of his engines failed while he was in the air?” she asked.

 

            “That’s the one. And the canteen story,” Poe added. He stopped in front of a glass door and pointed up at her. “But only if it goes well.”

 

            Rey pushed open the door and let Poe and BB8 ahead. The pilot’s lounge was all glass, looking out into an endless tarmac expanse. Flight attendants and pilots lounged around in plush armchairs; two younger women sat shoulder-to-shoulder, reading the _Galactic Grind_. Poe made a beeline for an old man near the TV.

 

            “Captain!” he shouted. The old man startled. BB8 wove through the armchairs after her owner, with Rey close behind.

 

            Ello stood, cracked his back. “Dameron,” he laughed. The two men clapped their hands together and shook vigorously. “And Miss Bee-Bee,” he added, bending down to look the dog in the eye. BB8’s tail thumped against the leather armchair.

 

            Poe took Rey’s hand and smiled up at her. “This is Rey Kanata,” he said. “Your new girl.”

 

            Rey stood rooted to the carpet, eyes wide as she stared up at Ello’s smiling face. Poe was clearly proud of her, and here she was, in a three-year-old dress and her stupid bracelets and _this was a captain what was she doing—_

 

            She stuck out her hand and put on her best smile. “Captain. Hi.”

 

            Ello shook her hand with the same friendly vigor. “Rey,” he said. His mustache bristled when he talked. “Shall we?”

 

* * *

 

            Rey stumbled into her apartment late that afternoon, heady with glee. Before she could remove her coat, Jessika pushed a package into her arms.

 

            “Mail for you!"

 

            “Huh?” But Jessika had retreated back into the kitchen. Rey looked down at the cardboard box.

 

            In lieu of an address, there was a taped-on piece of printer paper.

 

FOR REY KENOBI

 

            in Sharpie.

 

            Rey brushed her fingers against _Kenobi_ : an artifact of her old self, a title of royalty.

 

            She went into her bedroom and locked the door with a soft click. Still in her coat and heels, she curled up on the bed and pried the tape off with her fingers. She could hear Finn’s voice in her head: _don’t open that, what if it’s full of razor blades or something, this can’t be good,_ but just as she was starting to listen to him, the box was open and she was staring in disbelief at its contents:

 

            -One stress ball, shaped like a cartoon airplane;

            -A brand-new copy of _The Little Prince_ ;

            -A note that said, _You said you wanted to be a pilot_.

Rey felt her throat tighten. It was a small moment, in passing, during the second date: _Maybe someday I’ll be a pilot,_ she said around a mouthful of shrimp roll and a head full of wine. She remembered Kylo blinking at her. His head tilted in what she thought was ridicule; now, she recognized it as wonder.

 

            He remembered.

 

            Her eyes stung. She sniffled and picked up _The Little Prince_ , and it was only then that she revealed the final item in the box:

 

            -A small but heavy rectangle, wrapped in soft pink tissue paper.

 

            Rey set the book aside and reached for the rectangle. She weighed it in her hands. She pressed her thumbs to the edges and found the telltale glass-and-metal of a picture frame. Slowly, so as not to tear it, she undid the wrapping paper.

 

            It was her in the gown from the boutique on Imperial Street. She smiled at herself in the store mirror over her shoulder, admiring how the gown fell along the length of her body. Neither of the sales associates were looking at her. Now, in the quiet of her bedroom, Rey saw how the light caught the iridescent shimmer of the gown on her hips, saw how her hair cascaded over her shoulder, and apropos of nothing she thought, _beautiful girl_ , and it was as if someone had held a lens to her face and she knew how Finn saw her, how Poe saw her, how _Ben_ saw her.

 

            She dropped the photo in her lap and buried her face in her hands. Warm tears filled the divot between her palms, fell onto her stocking-covered calves.

 

            Rey wrung her hands dry and dug around in her bag for her phone. She parsed through her contacts, found the number she was looking for, and dialed.

 

            Luke picked up on the first ring. “Well, hey.”

 

            “Um.” She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her coat.

 

            “What’s the matter?” Rey could feel the soft concern and smell cinnamon tea through the phone. She shook her head, laughed a little.

 

            “I was, uh. Wondering if you still have some pictures of your parents?”

 

            “Yes!” Relief weighed his voice down. “Yeah, lots of ‘em. You don’t have to feel shy about asking for that, Rey.”

 

            She managed a smile. “It’s a long story.”

 

            “Sounds like it. You’ll have to tell me sometime.”

 

            Rey untied her hair from her bun, shook it out onto her shoulders. “Can you bring a copy of your favorite one over here this week?”

 

* * *

 

            Luke met her outside of her apartment on Friday night. He leaned out the window of his purple minivan. “This one okay?”

 

            Anakin and Padme, dressed in their finest, looked out into the distance. Anakin’s hand rested on Padme’s shoulder; a simple wedding band caught the light against Padme’s blue dress. Padme’s fingertips covered Anakin’s: gentle, protecting. Luke had even put the picture in a wooden frame gilded with flowers.

 

            “Perfect,” Rey breathed. She bounced on her toes and held the photograph to her chest.

 

            “You’re sure?” Luke held out a hand and raised his eyebrows. “I made a digitally-restored copy, but I wasn’t sure if the resolution was okay.”

 

            “Yes, yes, _yes,_ Uncle Luke, thank you!” She reached through the open window and threw her arms around him; without question, he held her back.

 

            It wasn’t until Rey had gone back inside her apartment that she realized she had called him _Uncle Luke_.

 

* * *

 

            Finding an open florist after her courier shift was near-impossible. A hunched Latino man, nose pressed to a copy of _After Dark_ , stood next to some sunflowers. Rey wheeled her bike up to the stand.

 

            Squinting through the fluorescent lights, she purchased a single white orchid plant. This she placed in the milk crate tied to her front handlebars. She pulled her hood up so she wouldn’t be recognized.

 

            Rey rode slowly through Coruscant to 1101 Eclipse Square. She tied up her bike a block away, then slunk through the shadows, up to the doorman, through the doors and to the receiptionist.

 

            “Can you deliver these to Kylo Ren?” she whispered. She presented the photograph of Anakin and Padme with the orchid plant.

 

* * *

 

            Rey took that Saturday off as a post-interview indulgence. Halfway through her afternoon nap, Finn called her from the Outpost.

 

            “Get over here,” he said.

 

            Rey pushed herself onto her elbows, blinking away sleep. “Huh?”

 

            “Come over. I don’t care if it’s your day off. You’ve gotta see this.”

 

            Rey rolled out of bed and reached for her _Jakku High_ sweater. "Did something happen?"

 

           "Trust me." Finn didn't sound upset; if anything, he sounded amused.

 

            The afternoon was clear and cold as she rode to the Outpost. A crowd of people had gathered by the entrance, craned their necks and pressed their noses to the windows. She locked her bike and pushed through the chattering mass.

 

            “What’s going on?” she asked aloud, but no one responded.

 

            Rey was barely able to get to the door. She squeezed through and shut it behind her.

 

            Orchids, hundreds of them, in every color imaginable, filled every available surface in the Outpost: the espresso machine, the tables, the empty chairs, even the register. Finn’s smiling face was framed with purple blooms. The plants reached up high, towards the ceiling tiles, towards the Florence Welch album piping through tinny speakers. She turned around and around on the spot, gaping as she traced leaves and stems across the walls with her eyes. A few roots obscured _Thank You_ on the garbage can’s wooden flap.

 

            Unkar, having caught sight of Rey, lumbered towards her, a finger pointed in accusation. “What the hell is this, Kanata?”

 

            “I quit,” she whispered to the nearest orchid.

 

            “What?”

 

            “I quit,” she said, then louder, “I quit!” then again, “I quit!” and she couldn’t stop laughing, she even hugged Unkar before she ran out into the crowd, whooping, cold tears streaming down her face. Rey’s hands trembled as she input her bike lock combination, and she ripped it off the frame and mounted the seat. "I quit!" she shouted.

 

            She sped through Jakku, through Tatooine, through Naboo, over the Corellian Run, the wind in her hair. A few cars slammed on their horns as she weaved through them, and she screamed wih joy into the great open space over the Core river.

 

            In Coruscant, she hopped onto curbs and wove through traffic to 1101 Eclipse Square. It was only out of great habit that she locked her bike outside and didn’t just throw it at the doorman’s feet. No one stopped her as she ran through the lobby, past the stuffy residents who stared at the ragged whirlwind of a girl. She crammed herself into the first elevator and grinned stupidly at herself in the reflective doors as it went up to floor 49.

 

            _Thump thump thump thump_ across the gray carpet. She pounded on door 4910 with her fist.

 

            Equally hurried stomping greeted her from the other end of the door. Rey threw herself into Kylo's arms before he had even gotten the door all the way open. He stumbled back into the foyer, lifting her up till only her toes brushed the floor. The apartment door hit the opposite wall with a  _bang_ , then closed slowly, sheepishly, so as not to intrude on the lovers.

 

            Kylo was warm and smelled like soap. Rey pressed her nose to the crook of his neck and laughed, or cried, or laughed. He started to sink to his knees, squeezing her tight, and Rey followed him to the floor.

 

           "All my life," he whispered. "All my life, Rey--"

 

            "I know," she whispered back, and squeezed. "Me too."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for your patience and your sweet words. I read every single message I get about a billion and one times, and I cherish every single one. This doesn't feel real.
> 
> TW: Self-harm scars, stillborn infant/miscarriage.
> 
> 3/14: Chapter uploaded. Quick clarifying edit added to the end.

            Rey nuzzled Kylo's neck. “Can I kiss you now?” she asked.

 

            A smile threatened Kylo's face when he pulled back to look at her. Before he could hide it, Rey pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. He sucked on her bottom lip with a happy sigh, and she bumped their noses together.

 

            “I have to clean up,” he said when they separated. “Make yourself at home.”

 

            His apartment was dappled with afternoon light. Rey shrugged off her jacket and left it on the foyer bench while Kylo fussed in the kitchen. The stark living space beyond the entryway now seemed warm and inviting; afternoon sunlight drifted along the wood floor. Rey squinted at the blue sky beyond the windows. She turned in place, took in the rest of the apartment.

 

            Her orchid plant sat next to the mirror with two photos: the one Rey had given Kylo, and the one she had destroyed, now in a new frame. Bloodstains marred his grandparents’ faces and tinted the photo brown. She crept forward and touched her index finger to Padme's smile. The refrigerator door shut, and when Rey turned towards the kitchen, Kylo was leaning against the counter.

 

            They stared at from across the room. He jammed his hands into his pockets. A muscle in his jaw twitched. He looked away, out the window, into the city beyond. Whatever moment they had had in the foyer had dissipated, replaced by something awkward and stiff.

 

            Rey wiped her fingerless gloves on her leggings. “Sorry to interrupt.”

 

            Kylo shrugged. Rey tore her gaze away and knelt to the ground to untie her sneakers.

 

            She got halfway through untying the left before large hands cupped her face. Kylo tilted her head up so he could meet her eyes, looked at her in a soft and wondering way.

 

            Rey managed a smile. “Hi.”

 

            He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks and looked down at her mouth. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

 

            “Huh?”

 

            “Earlier, when you said you were sorry for interrupting.” He knit his brows together and made eye contact again. “I meant you didn’t have to apologize for coming here.”

 

            Rey watched him carefully. He looked good, she thought, when there was natural light on him. All of his moles were still in the same places she remembered them being; his eyes were still dark, but now that she had sunlight to look at him by, she noticed the irises were more hazel than brown

 

            Rey also noticed that she quite liked that.

 

            “I’m freezing,” she said. “Do you have coffee?”

 

* * *

 

            They sat on opposite ends of the couch and faced each other, their drinks held between them like shields. Moving carefully, Rey asked Kylo simple questions: favorite color ( _forest green_ , and she wouldn't know with all the black around), what movies he liked ( _John Wick, Mad Max, Hamlet_ but the Kenneth Branaugh version), what he was doing with a Wii U (he had no one to play with). They turned on Netflix and watched a documentary about sake. The sun began to set. Rey finished her coffee and asked Kylo if he liked to cook (very much). He asked her if she cooked outside of work (not at all, besides cereal and boxed mac-and-cheese). At some point, Rey noticed they were holding hands. She made him sit through the first episode of _Gossip Girl_ , and he made her sit through an episode of some cooking documentary. Kylo’s thumb brushed against the back of her hand. Did Rey like horror movies (no), did Kylo like rom-coms (never tried them). She tucked her right arm behind his back and scratched his right side with her nails. They became bored of watching Netflix, and they turned on the Wii U and played Mario Kart for a while; Kylo was a bad loser, but at some point Rey crawled into his lap and they played that way without him making a peep about it. They ordered Thai and ate from the same takeout container.

 

            It was at the last bite that Rey asked:

 

            “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

            Kylo didn’t respond at first. He plucked the empty container from her hands and placed their used chopsticks in it. He set it down on the wood floor. When he lied down on the couch, Rey placed her cheek to his chest and heard his steady heartbeat in her ear.

 

            “Because I’m not him.” _Ben Solo,_ the ghost. He reached up and undid one of her hair buns.

 

            “What happened?” was her next question.

 

            “I left,” was his response. He teased out the knots in her hair with gentle fingers. “I ran away.”

 

            She tried to sync her breathing with his. He set to undoing the next bun.

 

            “Why?” she asked.

 

            “I…”

 

            She looked up at him. His face twisted, a very raw look of grief that she didn’t know what to do with. She whispered, “If you don’t want to talk, it’s—“

 

            “They told me you were dead,” he blurted.

 

            She put her forearms on either side of him, propped herself up. “That’s what Han said.”

 

            His hands were gentle even as his voice went dark. “They lied to me.” He finished with the second bun and started on the third.

 

            “I don’t think Han knew, Kylo.”

 

            His chin quivered, and he stopped playing with her hair. He looked up at the ceiling and blinked hard. Rey reached up and brushed his cheek with the backs of her fingers. He leaned into her touch, closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.

 

            She spoke quietly. “I thought you were dead, too.”

 

            “I was,” Kylo said bitterly, his eyes closed.

 

            “But you—you don’t understand." She willed herself to continue. "By the time I could read, you were gone. I didn’t know what to do. I thought I didn’t have anyone.”

 

            Kylo opened his eyes; they were shining with unshed tears. He still wouldn’t look at her. 

 

            Rey pulled her hair out of the third bun and shook it out. She said, “I thought…I thought there was something wrong with me. Like the universe wanted me to feel bad.” Fuck, now she was choking up, too. “They don’t tell you what you should do if your soulmate is gone before you meet them.”

 

            “I was always there,” Kylo whispered to the ceiling. He raised an arm to his face, rubbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his thermal shirt. Rey pushed his arm out of the way. Kylo’s face was red and blotchy; he peered at her through swollen eyes.

 

            “I did that to you,” he rasped.

 

            “You didn’t know,” Rey whispered. When Kylo’s thumb brushed at her cheek, she realized she had started crying without her knowledge or consent. She managed a smile and leaned into his palm.

 

            She said, “I forgive you.”

 

            He shuddered and gasped, like she had said something divine.

 

            Rey murmured, “Can you forgive me for saying I hated you?”

 

            “Yes,” Kylo said, surging forward to kiss her. “Yes,” he said between breathless kisses, “yes, I forgive you, I’ll always forgive you—“

 

            “I’ll be here,” Rey whispered back against his lips. She dipped her fingertips under the collar of his shirt, felt the hard muscle of his back. “Please stay with me.”

 

            “You don’t have to ask.” Kylo’s hands encircled her waist. His thumbs pushed under her clothing and rubbed soothing circles against her belly. Even through the tears, she felt him smiling on her mouth: it was painfully shy, unsure, full of ecstasy all the same. “I should be asking you the same.”

 

            When they both calmed down and pulled away, Coruscant had gone dark beyond the windows. Rey sat up and tugged at Kylo’s shirt. His hands flew up between them.

 

            “Don’t,” Kylo said. He shrunk back against the corner of the couch. “Please, don’t.”

 

            Rey held up her hands. “Okay. Hey.” She felt something twist in her chest, seeing Kylo trying to make himself small. “I won’t…what’s wrong?”

 

            Kylo didn’t answer. His eyes were blank.

 

            “You’re scared of me,” she said.

 

            “I’m not scared of you,” Kylo replied, even as he cringed.

 

            “If you don’t want to have sex, it’s fine.”

 

            “No, I…” Kylo looked away, looked back at her, closed his eyes and huffed.

 

            “Then what?” Rey’s hands fluttered over his thighs. “Do…do you not want me to see?”

 

            Kylo’s hands lowered a fraction, just enough so he could see her more clearly. In the overhead light, she could see the old tear marks shining on his cheeks. When he didn’t respond, Rey backed away, leaving him room to sit up.

 

            “We can,” he said softly, “if you don’t look.”

 

            “What’s wrong with me looking?” Rey said, but caught herself and scratched her head. “Sorry, no, it’s not important. Forget I said that.”

 

            Kylo glanced up at her, then looked down at his hands. “I offended you.”

 

            She grabbed his face and kissed his forehead. “No, no. How about…” She smoothed back his hair. Somewhere along the way, he had closed his eyes. She kissed his forehead again. “We don't have to look at each other.”

 

            He snorted. “You’d like me to fuck you from behind.”

 

            She burst into laughter. “Oh my _God._ Yes, that.”

 

            Kylo looked up at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You want me to?”

 

            Rey rolled off the couch and onto her feet. “Yes!” She tugged at his hand. "Come on."

 

            She led him to the bedroom. Rey felt strange, standing here again, looking at the dark bed. Kylo put his hand to her lower back and nudged her forward.

 

            “Wait,” she said. She turned and looked past his shoulder, up towards the wardrobe.

 

            The teddy bear stared down at her with its one good eye.

 

            She moved past Kylo and reached up. There was movement behind her, a body pressing against her back, and Kylo was reaching past her. He took the teddy bear down and handed it to her.

 

            Rey closed her eyes and squeezed it tight, smelled the dust on its fur. For good measure, she pushed her face into its soft head and breathed a while. Kylo stood behind her, let her have her moment.

 

            “Okay,” she said, and handed the bear back to him. He replaced it atop the wardrobe.

 

            “Are you ready?” he said.

 

            Rey grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him. She forced her tongue into his mouth, felt him grunt and bite at her bottom lip in surprise. Rey walked backwards, pulling Kylo forward, until they were on the bed and he had no choice but to fall on top of her.

 

            He crawled on top of her and fumbled with her jeans. “Do you…want music, or…?”

 

            “No, it’s okay.” She put her hands on his and felt him undo the button. They worked together to peel the jeans off of her. The second she was down to her briefs, Kylo ducked his head and pressed wet, eager kisses to her belly.

 

            “I should have worn better underwear,” Rey huffed, staring down at disappointment at herself.

 

            Kylo responded by kissing her through her briefs. “You _can’t_. Not when they’re so sexy.”

 

            “Thanks. They were on sale.” She pressed the heel of her hand to his forehead, watched with dizzy excitement as he pushed her panties out of the way and kissed her clit again, just as gently as he had kissed her in the hallway. Her grip became punishing when he started sucking in earnest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh God.”

 

            Kylo worked his hands under her bottom. Without any effort, he lifted her hips closer to his mouth, let his tongue work lazy circles. Rey let out a broken cry and tossed her head back. His tenderness was almost painful; this lacked the frantic energy of their December coupling. Kylo’s touch was certain now, the touch of someone who knew he was wanted. Rey let herself drift, lost herself in the soft press of his lips, the feeling of his breath puffing against her lower belly. She loosened her grip on his hair, stroked his scalp gently instead.

 

            “Are you mine?” Rey gasped. “Is this real?”

 

            Kylo opened his eyes and stared at her. He flattened his tongue and dragged it up her slit, playful. She covered her face.

 

            “Don’t do that,” Kylo murmured against her. “You’re so beautiful.”

 

            “Are you going to punish me for trying?” Rey teased.

 

            He lowered her hips to the bed and kissed a trail down the inside of her right thigh. “And if I didn’t want to?”

 

            “Then I’d tell you I wouldn’t mind it.”

 

            He turned to her left thigh and kissed her there, slower this time as he worked his way back up to her vulva. “What would you like me to do?”

 

            Rey looked up at the ceiling, at the inset lights. She thought she might like to paint stars up there, so they could look up at them in bed. “You could start by putting your fingers in me, Casanova.”

 

            Kylo bit a bruise into _Ben Solo_. Rey hissed against the pain. He laved over the bruise with his tongue, easing the sting. Without speaking or moving from the mark, he reached up towards Rey’s mouth; she leaned forward and sucked on two of his fingers. She dragged her teeth against his fingertips, watched as he gasped and rubbed his hips against the edge of the mattress.

 

           He pushed a saliva-wet finger into her. When he twisted and ground the knuckle against her entrance, Rey gasped her approval. He smiled against her soul mark.

 

            “You can add another,” she said, rocking her hips. He obliged her.

 

            Rey looked up at the ceiling again and closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of Kylo’s mouth as he returned his attentions to her clit. His fingers worked in and out of her. He crooked them blindly, dragged them against the upper wall until she shouted, and when she looked down, he was watching her, wide-eyed, still sucking on her.

 

            She tugged at his hair. His eyelids fluttered shut, mouth going slow and lazy. He pulled his fingers out of her.

 

            “Turn over” he said.

 

            Rey rolled over and pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. He ran a hand up her back, under her shirt, reassuring. She heard his belt buckle undo.

 

            She arched her back. “I must look stupid,” she said.

 

            “Shhh.” His hand returned to rub soothing circles into her lower back. “Always so angry with yourself, Rey.”

 

            When she heard his shirt hit the ground, Rey realized that he was undressing for her, as promised. She wanted so badly to turn and take him in, to see her own name on his right thigh, but this was a delicate thing, a soap bubble of a moment, and God help her, she didn’t want it to go away.

 

            She took one of the pillows and placed it under her hips, resting her weight onto it. Kylo’s pants hit the floor behind her.

 

            “Close your eyes, Rey.”

 

            She obeyed.  He moved around to the nightstand, where he retrieved a condom and some lubricant. _Soap bubble, soap bubble,_ she thought to herself when the urge to open her eyes became harder to resist. Kylo returned to his position behind her and tore open the condom wrapper.

 

            “Thank you,” she murmured to the comforter as he started to push in.

 

            “For what?” He sounded bewildered. There was an unspoken question in his voice:  _What have I given you?_

 

            “For…” She hissed as he bottomed out, grabbed at the sheets with trembling hands. “I know it's hard for you to talk about what happened."

 

            His hips stuttered. She hadn’t touched him all night, and he paused again, trying to get used to her body.

 

            Rey kept talking. “And I know you’re shy about undressing. I…I thought it was because you didn’t want me to know.” At this angle, her clit dragged against the pillow beneath her with every thrust.

 

            Kylo rubbed her spine. “In time, I’ll show you.”

 

            The floodgates opened:

 

            “I’ll show you all of me, Rey. I’m yours, every part. Anything you want, you don’t have to work anymore, I’ll take care of you. I want you to be _happy_.” He leaned over her, and she felt his bare chest against her back. She sighed. He continued talking. “Don’t _ever_ say thank you. _I_ should be thanking you for taking me.” Rey tilted her hips up. He moved faster. “You…you are _perfect_ , you are…absolutely _celestial._ ” He pressed his face to her hair, sounding broken as he babbled on. “I want to have a family with you, I want to give you children, I want us to leave this place, have a beautiful house and a _family_ and a  _life_. I want to protect you, I want to buy you beautiful things, I…I…”

 

            “Oh, _Kylo_.”

 

            He let out a broken cry and grabbed Rey’s hands. His arms and wrists were covered in thin, neat lines: some dark, some white, some _new_ , and she felt a fresh surge of affection and hurt for the man behind her.

 

            She intertwined her fingers with his, savored the way his thrusts became slow and uneven through his orgasm. He sounded surprised as he gasped and cried out again before going still.

 

            He pulled out and, before Rey could react, she felt his mouth on her entrance. She rubbed her clit against the pillow as he lapped at the slick mess there.

 

            “Yes,” she hissed, “yes, yeah, Kylo, _Kylo_ …”

 

            He moaned, and Rey finished in silence, mouth open in an _o_ as she rode out her pleasure. She collapsed against the bed. The mattress dipped, briefly, as Kylo pushed himself up to his feet.

 

            “Wait a second.” Kylo’s voice was hoarse. He backed away.

 

            “Sure,” she breathed.

 

            While he dressed again and disposed of the condom, Rey said, “Where’d you learn to do that?”

 

            He didn’t answer. Rey was about to speak again when he muttered, “I…looked it up.”

 

            She tried to look at him over her shoulder, but Kylo gently turned her head forward.

 

            “There wasn’t another girl?” Rey asked. She rested her chin against the comforter. In the haze of her afterglow, she stretched out, groaned as her joints popped.

 

            “No.” The rustle of cotton-on-skin filled the room.

 

            “Armitage…?”

 

            “My first.” Kylo said this very softly. 

 

            “Oh.”

 

            His touch was feather-light on her hair. "Does it bother you?" he murmured. "That I'm inexperienced."

 

            Rey rested her cheek against her arm. “We’re both each other’s firsts, in a way.”

 

            He sat on the bed next to her. “Yes,” he said. He added, very sternly, “Thank you.”

 

            “You shouldn’t have to thank me either.” Rey turned to look at Kylo, who was now fully dressed. He stared at where his fingers met her spine, traced the line of it up, then down, as if he was touching something altogether new and sacred, as if he hadn’t just been inside her. She closed her eyes and laid down again. He pressed his thumbs into her lower back and rubbed, and when she hummed with approval, he started to rub her shoulders.

 

            The scars, she thought. One day, she’d get to them.

 

* * *

 

            On a rainy autumn night in 1997, a woman rushed into the police station with a crying baby in her arms.

 

            “I’m here to surrender a child,” Hannah gasped. Water dripped off of her lashes and onto the floor.

 

            The man behind the counter yanked open a drawer and pulled out a stack of papers. “Name?”

 

            “She doesn’t have a name,” the woman said, bouncing in place. “Please, I…she needs a home. Name her anything. _Please._ ”

 

            She couldn’t look into the baby’s eyes. _Betrayal,_ said its face, _Bad mother_. 

 

* * *

 

            “Oh, Hannah. You could have told me. I would have taken the baby for you.”

 

            Hannah pressed her forehead to the glass of the telephone booth. “No, no, Luke,” she said. “I can’t force a baby on you.”

 

            “I’ve always wanted a little girl.” Pause. “Do you know where she went?”

 

            Hannah sighed, and all of the tension left her bones on the exhale. “God knows,” she said. “I just hope she’s safe.” With an ache in her voice, she added, “I didn’t give her a name.”

 

* * *

 

            The second pregnancy came in 1998. The doctor told her she’d have a baby girl; a second one. _Sisters,_ thought Hannah bitterly, _her older sister’s already in an orphanage._ Maybe they would find each other. This girl would be Luke's; Luke the Lonely, Luke Without a Soul Mate, Luke living alone in his big house at the end of the world.

            Then one morning, she woke up to blood in her bed and a searing pain.

           

* * *

 

            “Would you like to hold her?” asked the nurse.

 

            “Yes,” Hannah said. “Please.”

 

            “We couldn’t find a soul mark,” said the nurse. She laced her hands together at her belly. “It was too early for one.”

 

            Hannah rocked the baby back and forth, back and forth. In her mind’s eye, she imagined her daughter stirring and cooing in response. The tiny body in her arms did nothing.

 

"I'm very sorry, Miss Kenobi."

 

Someone had shut the baby's eyes before bringing her to Hannah. She looked peaceful.

 

            “Did she have a name?” asked the nurse, quietly this time.

 

            “It was Ray,” Hannah whispered. “Like ‘ray of light.’”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting, everyone! I have a lot of side projects going on right now, so this got (unjustly) pushed aside for a while.
> 
> Also 1000 KUDOS WHAAAAAAT. Holy shit! Thank you all!

            Maz Kanata couldn’t stop smiling at the baby in her arms. Other orphans screeched and ran around them, like volatile little planets around an unmoving star.

 

            “Such a happy little thing,” she cooed. The little girl burbled and reached for Maz’s hair. “Now I know why your name is Rey, you little sunshine.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Rey breathed in and rolled over. When she opened her eyes, Coruscant spread out far below her bed.

 

            She gasped and shot up. The teddy bear eyed her panic from atop the wardrobe, and upon seeing it, she relaxed. She rolled over and snuggled into the warm dent on the other side of the mattress. Kylo had pulled open the curtains before leaving, and a stripe of morning light lay at her fingertips. On the other side of the Core River, Galactic was waking up. The stereo clock said _8:16_.

 

            Rey felt on the nightstand for her phone, but it was still in her coat in the foyer. Kylo’s low voice crept underneath the bedroom door.

 

            She rolled up to a sitting position and flexed her toes. Kylo’s _CU Hockey_ jersey felt baggy on her. She pulled it up, sucked in her stomach, watched how her ribs stuck out. A fresh bruise covered the “Ben” in _Ben Solo_ on her thigh; a press of her thumb revealed it again, stark and bloodless, before she let go and the skin flushed purple again.

 

            The white carpet felt like heaven on her calloused feet as she walked to the bedroom door. In the living room, Kylo sat cross-legged on the couch, his MacBook open on his lap. He balanced the phone between his shoulder and cheek while he typed.

 

            “Tell Mitaka to move the investment elsewhere,” he said, and was it her imagination, or did he sound more relaxed? “No. Yes. Yes, that’s fine. Yes, I’ll let him know myself, thank you.”

 

            The apartment smelled like maple syrup. Kylo had set out a plate of French toast for her on the kitchen bar, with halved strawberries arranged in a flower on top. His plate and fork were in the sink. She passed him in silence, crawled onto the barstool, and tucked in.

 

            Kylo hung up and kept typing. Forty stories below, a police siren went off and faded into the distance. She rolled the fresh strawberry chunks around in her mouth.

 

            Somewhere in her mind, they were far from the city in some secluded town. Their children hadn’t woken up yet, and they were enjoying a quiet Sunday morning to themselves. She could almost smell the ocean and the flowers in their garden. Rey scratched the back of her head as she ate another forkful of French toast.

 

            The phone rang again; Kylo got it before the second ring. “Kylo here.”

 

            She ran her finger through the syrup and licked it clean. Fantasy over.

 

            As she was polishing off the last of her breakfast, Kylo finished the call. The wood floor creaked as he sauntered towards her. Rey feigned indifference.

 

            Kylo’s hands appeared in front of her, leaning hard against the countertop, and he crowded her in from behind. He brushed his lips to her temple.

 

            “Don’t you have work?” he asked.

 

            “Mm. I quit.” She wiped her hand with a napkin while she leaned into his mouth. He brushed sugar-sweet kisses against her cheek, his body a warm weight against her back.

 

            He said, “Then I’m never going back to the Outpost.”

 

            “That makes two of us.” Three, she thought, if you counted Finn. She closed her eyes.

 

            He moved his attention to her neck. “I missed you,” he whispered; this he punctuated with a kiss against her pulse.

 

            Rey grinned. “But I was in the next room.”

 

            He nudged the hockey jersey to the side so he could map her collarbone with kisses. “My entire life, I’ve missed you.”

 

            _Dramatic._ She pushed back against him, scratching his scalp with her nails. “I know. We talked about this, last night. You _do_ remember, right?”

 

            “It bears repeating.” He made his way up her neck again, until he was at her ear. He whispered, “Did your entire face enjoy the French toast? You taste like syrup.”

 

            Rey barked out a laugh. He grunted when she tugged at his hair. “No, I don’t! Jerk.”

 

            Kylo bit her earlobe. She slid off the barstool and let him push her up against the counter for a kiss full of teeth. Kylo’s hands found her breasts through the hockey jersey; the kiss melted into something as slow and sweet as the maple syrup as he kneaded them.

 

            When Kylo started to kneel, Rey stopped him. “Uh-uh. My turn.”

 

            “Oh.” Kylo blinked owlishly. His fingers tapped out a staccato against her hips. “You don’t have to…do that.”

 

            She cupped his face and bumped noses with him. “I _want_ to.”

 

            As she dropped to her knees, he started talking again. “We’re not exchanging anything, Rey. There’s no favor to return--” His voice cut off into a gasp when she reached up and rubbed him through his sweatpants. His cock swelled under her touch, and as his gasps came louder and more desperate, a promising wet spot formed underneath her palm. “ _Rey_.”

 

            Rey looked up, studied how he shut his eyes tight, how his mouth fell open as he struggled to take in air. She rested her cheek against his thigh, unable to keep herself from smiling. “Do you like that?” she whispered.

 

            “ _Fuck_.” He covered his face with his hand.

 

            She worked her fingertips underneath the waistbands of both his sweatpants and his boxers, tugged them down just low enough to free his cock. Before she could look at his lower stomach, at a new bit of exposed skin and hair, she forced herself to tug his sweatshirt over it.

 

            She pumped his dick slowly, watching how it jumped and twitched. Kylo moaned quietly into his hand when her thumb rubbed at his frenulum, and, fascinated, she pressed hard into it to hear his noises ratchet up in pitch. His free hand threaded itself into her hair, gentle and encouraging while she mapped him out with her fingers: the vein running up the side, the precome leaking from the tip, the softness of his balls when she caressed them in her other hand. He spread his legs to keep balance. Rey kept pumping him in her fist while she pressed her thumb into his right thigh, as close as she could get to where she thought his soul mark was. When she looked up again, he was staring at her, his dark eyes overwhelmed and affectionate.

 

            While watching his face, Rey leaned forward and suckled at the tip. His expression darkened; he turned away and whispered something into his hand, too low for Rey to hear.

 

            She dipped lower, taking more of him into her mouth, and that’s when she heard him clearly:

 

            “Stop. Stop, please. _Stop._ ”

 

            He sounded _terrified._

 

            Rey released him, holding her hands up in surrender. He fumbled himself back into his pants. The fear on his face was something more primal than mere anxiety: he hunched over, as if punched in the stomach, and gulped in air.

 

            “It’s okay,” she tried. “It’s okay.”

 

            “I…” He looked around the apartment, eyes wide and unseeing. “Please, don’t.”

 

            “Kylo?” Real panic rose in her gut. “Kylo, what happened?”

 

            “Ah.” He rubbed his eye with the heel of one hand. “Shit.”

 

            Rey kept talking in lieu of a comforting touch. “What did I do? Are you okay?”

 

            When Kylo spoke again, his voice was eerily calm, despite the terror on his face. “There’s a café around the corner,” he said. “They make good cold brew. Please,” and he reached over the counter to where his wallet lay in the kitchen, pulled out a twenty with shaking hands. “Get whatever you want.”

 

            Her stomach dropped as he thrust the twenty towards her. “Are you kicking me out?” Rey whispered.

 

            “No, I…” He blinked hard. The tremor was back in his voice. “Can you bring me back—“

 

            “The latte, right?”

 

            “—no, something, I don’t care. Surprise me. I trust you.”

 

            _I trust you._

 

            Rey took the twenty. “Okay, okay. I’ll be right back.” She reached out to steady his arms, thought better of it, left them hovering over his wrists instead. “Be careful.”

 

            He didn’t move while she went back to the bedroom to get yesterday’s jeans.

 

            As she pulled on her shoes in the foyer, she heard Kylo’s phone ringing. It went unanswered.

 

* * *

 

            Rey was positive that the Celestial didn’t have a single item under five dollars, not even their drip coffee, and not a single one of its employees was older than thirty. The shaggy, unkempt cashier smiled at her as she mulled over the pastries: rich flourless cakes, gluten-free vegan cookies, an assortment of exotic-looking donuts. She settled on a couple of chocolate chip cookies to-go and two iced coffees, and as the barista put the cookies into a take-away bag, she tried not to think about Kylo, scared and alone, in the Outpost at 4 AM.

 

            She hesitated at the counter. There was a man sitting on the stools against the window counter, his cheek resting on his hand. Despite the warm interior of the Celestial, he was still wearing his gray coat.

 

            Rey turned back to the counter and dug out her own wallet. “Hey, sorry. Could I grab one of the vegan sugar cookies, too? For here?”

           

            She approached Armitage with the plate held out in front of her like an offering. From the counter, his pale face was in profile to her; his blue eyes followed the cars outside, but he didn’t budge, even when she set the plate down and pushed it within his reach.

 

            She pulled herself onto the stool next to him, and together, they stared out the window for a while.

 

            Armitage spoke first. “Have you come to gloat?”

 

            “No,” she replied. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

 

            His eyes found hers in the window reflection. “That’s amusing, coming from you.” There was accusation in his tone.

 

            She worried at the edges of her take-away bag. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

 

            “So it’s true, then? Kylo was right?”

 

            “Yeah. It’s a long story.”

 

            He snorted and turned away from her. “Blessings on you both,” he mumbled.

 

            Rey gave up with the paper bag and put her hands in her lap. Condensation dripped off her iced coffees, onto the counter between them. “He kept saying you two weren’t together.” Armitage’s pale hand curled into a fist, released. Rey eyed it while she talked. “I…if we weren’t…soulmates, none of this would have happened.”

 

            When he didn’t respond, Rey gathered her things and made to stand.

 

            “Yes, Rey, I remember. It’s a very special moment, meeting them for the first time.”

 

            She stopped halfway off the stool. Armitage turned back to her and gave her a tight smile.

 

            “But not all of us get a happy ending,” he spat. “You’d do well to remember that.”

 

            “What are you talking about?”

 

            Armitage pulled up his left sleeve. There, on his skin, was a woman’s name. Rey stopped breathing.

 

            He dropped his sleeve and looked out the window. “You can’t fault me for wishing ill on you two,” he said to the glass. “Kylo was all I had when she left.”

 

            “Did you know her?” Rey asked.

 

            “For all of a few years,” Armitage replied. He steepled his hands.

 

            “What happened?”

 

            He shrugged, but his voice was raw. “She died, Rey.”

 

            “I-I’m sorry.” She rolled up the top of the paper bag, struggled to find words. Rey _knew_ the bitter hurt in his voice: the resignation to a life alone and the knowledge that you existed to get fucked over. “I didn’t know that you and Kylo--”

 

            Armitage’s eyes went cold. “And if you had? Would you have left well enough alone?”

           

            Rey stared at her shoes.

 

            “I am quite tired,” he said. “And you’ve gone and made it worse. Scavenger girl.”

 

            “Don’t call me that,” she whispered.

 

            “It’s what you are.”

 

            Rey felt heat rise to her cheeks.

 

            “And you’re an…an asshole.”

 

            Armitage failed to push down a smile.

 

            He didn’t say anything as she backed away, out of the Celestial, onto the icy sidewalk.

 

* * *

 

            Rey tapped her foot in the elevator as it rose to the 49th floor. How long had Armitage and Kylo been together? She tried to remember the previous fall, at the way they always moved as one dark unit when they were in the Outpost together. If she had been tired enough, she sometimes saw them as one being.

 

            Would she and Kylo ever move like that?

 

            The elevator display read _31, 32, 33._ Her ears popped. The iced coffees in her hand dripped away, soaking part of the take-away bag.

 

            The elevator opened, and Rey made her way to the end of the hall. She tapped her foot against door 4910.

 

            Kylo opened the door and took the coffees from her.

 

            “I’m sorry about that,” he said, mechanical in his apology. He had spoken these same words before. “It won’t happen again.”

 

            Rey was going to reassure him as she walked into the apartment, but stopped, mouth open around words that never came.

 

            Broken glass and porcelain littered the floor by the windows. Scuffs in the wall paint and in the wood revealed where dishware had collided. A plugged-in vacuum leaned on the sofa, as if Rey had caught him when he was about to clean up. Here was evidence of that volatile man she knew lay out of her reach, and here was evidence that he was still trying to hide that from her, clean it up and tuck it away where she couldn’t see.

 

            Kylo tried to slide past her with the coffees, but she grabbed his shirt.

 

            “You’re barefoot,” she said, her voice hard around the edges. “Don’t.”

 

            He stood there, staring at her. “I don’t want the ice to melt.”

 

            “What the hell did you _do_?” she whispered.

 

            He looked at the broken glass as if just noticing it. “I had an episode. It happens.”

 

            Rey let go of his shirt, still gaping at the mess. He slipped away from her and into the kitchen, where he set the coffees and the take-away bag down.

 

            “Why?” she asked.

 

            Kylo halted next to the sink, tapped his fingers on the countertop. Rey bent down and picked up a chunk of porcelain.

 

            She felt his eyes on her as she shuffled around the floor, gathering dish remnants. Her hands trembled as she asked, “Would you have done this if I were here?”

 

            His answer came immediately: “No. I don’t want to scare you.”

 

            Rey blinked hard. “You _are_ scaring me,” she growled through gritted teeth. She dropped her collected shards on the bar top and turned back to her work. “What if I’d…gotten in the way, or--?”

 

            “Not you.” Kylo’s voice was sharp, even angry. “I’d never hurt you.”

 

            She rounded on him. “How do I know that?”

 

            Kylo looked down at his hands, splayed on the kitchen counter. “I’m sorry.”

 

            “No, don’t—ugh.” Rey turned her head and wiped her face on her shoulder. All the fire in her went out, replaced with something bone-tired and empty. “Don’t be sorry.”

 

            She knelt and picked up another porcelain chunk.

 

            Kylo came around the bar to kneel next to her. They picked through the glass and porcelain together in silence, carefully gathering anything the vacuum couldn’t take and depositing it on the bar top. His breathing was steady.

 

            “Something happened in college,” he said. “On my birthday. I don’t quite remember what. I was drunk.”

 

            Rey paused and listened.

 

            “I remember being taken into a bathroom and getting left there afterwards, and nothing in the middle.” He sat back on his heels, toying with half a plate in his hands. “What you did made me nervous,” he said, and Rey mentally replaced _nervous_ with _afraid_. “I’m sorry for pushing you away. I should’ve let it happen. You were trying to be kind.”

 

            “Hey.” Rey rubbed his back. His shoulders sagged, and he leaned back into the touch. “I won’t do that again, okay? I’m sorry I scared you.”

 

            “Why are you here, Rey?” Kylo asked, suddenly calm. He still wouldn’t look at her. “Why haven’t you left?”

 

            Rey didn’t have to think before she responded. “We’re stuck together. You have to deal with my shit and I have to deal with yours.”

 

            “You deserve a better soulmate,” he bit out. “You deserve someone normal.”

 

            Rey sighed. “I deserve you,” she said.

 

            When he didn’t say anything, she lifted his arm and crawled under it. She cuddled up against his chest.

 

            His arms tightened around her. He nuzzled into her hair.

 

            Kylo said, “Are you afraid?”

 

            “Not right now,” she whispered. “Are you?”

 

            “No.” He added, “Not right now.”

 

            “Okay.”

 

            “Mm-hmm.”

 

            Sunlight bounced off the glass and scattered rainbows across the wood floor.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, guys. Thanks for being patient. It's been a rough year. And the fact that this has 24k+ hits, over 1400 kudos, and close to 300 bookmarks is WILD to me. Thank you everyone!
> 
> This story kind of blew up post-TLJ, so: welcome, new Reylos! Let's get weird.

            Her world was gauzy and peach-colored, like the inside of her eyelids. Someone spoke; she laughed. She heard her own voice, speaking from both within and outside of her. Rey opened her mouth, except she didn’t have a mouth; she didn’t have a body. The voice from before spoke again, and then a dark shape was touching her face, or where her face was supposed to be.

 

            _Hello?_ Rey said to it. There was no response. Everything felt muffled, womb-like. _Peaceful,_ she thought. _Home. Loved._

 

            _Rey?_

Rey?

“Rey.”

 

            She gasped and sat up. A hand touched her sternum, put the barest amount of pressure there: a wordless _lie down_. She went obediently back into the pillows. Her eyes focused on the dark ceiling of a bedroom.

 

            Kylo hovered over her in a white dress shirt, smelling of soap and toothpaste. His wet hair sat in a bun on the top of his head. Just beyond him, the open bathroom door spilt fluorescent light onto the carpet. The mattress dipped as he sat down beside her.

           

            “Your heart is racing,” he whispered to her. “Are you okay?”

 

            She blinked up at him. “Just a dream, that’s all.”

 

            “Was it a good dream?” He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. When she reached across the empty bed, she could still feel the warmth his body had left. She resisted the urge to burrow into it.

 

            Kylo said, “You were saying ‘hello’ to me, over and over again.” The corner of his mouth quirked up.

 

            Rey squeezed her eyes shut, opened them again, and swallowed. It was, she thought, a good dream after all, even if it _was_ disorienting. Somehow, she had been exactly where she needed to be, even if she didn’t know where that was yet.

 

            Eventually, she replied. “I don’t know.” She added, “I think so.”

 

            He ghosted his fingers against her lips. She kissed them. His eyes widened; he leaned in further.

 

            “I have to go to work,” Kylo breathed, despite the way he was looking at her. “It’s Monday. You’re going to be alone today.”

 

            “What time is it…?”

 

            “Five in the morning.”

 

            She closed her eyes, groaned. “Why the _hell_ are you awake?”

 

            He chuckled. “Because I have to be. But, look—“

 

            Kylo reached past her head, towards the nightstand. When he returned, a keyring, containing a single gold key, dangled from an outstretched finger. He held it up for her to examine. “This is yours. I meant to give it to you a long time ago.”

 

            Rey held out her hand. He placed the keyring into her waiting palm, pushed her fingers into a closed fist. The metal felt cool and solid against her skin; his hand was warm around hers.

 

            “This is your home now,” he said, slow and deliberate. “You don’t have to stay here without me, Rey. I’m giving you a key so you can come and go as you’d like.”

 

            She reached up with her free hand and cupped his cheek, marveled at the way Kylo leaned completely into it. His eyes fluttered shut into an expression of bliss.

 

            “Thank you,” she breathed, and she wasn’t sure if it was for the keyring or for this moment.

 

            When he opened his eyes again, they were full of tenderness. “You’re welcome.” It was barely a whisper.

 

            Rey put the keyring back on the nightstand, right next to her phone, and snuggled back into the sheets. Kylo disappeared into the bathroom. Tinny music started up from his phone. A hairdryer’s faint whine lulled her back into the womb from her dream: a sense of peace, of safety, of being okay for the first time in a long while.

 

            Before she slipped off, she thought she felt him kiss her forehead. She smiled to herself.

 

* * *

 

            _Come on, skinny love, just last the year…_

Rey groaned and turned over.

 

            _Pour a little salt, we were never here…_

 

            She thrust out a hand and smacked her phone once, twice. Justin Vernon continued to sing despite her assault.

 

            _And I told you to be patient, and I told you to—_

She maneuvered the phone to her ear. “Hello?” she grumbled.

 

            “Rey!” Poe’s bright voice came from the other side. “How are you, babe?”

 

            She turned to the window, squinted at the bright sunlight she found there. “I just woke up,” she said, and she rubbed at her eyes.

 

            Poe’s voice turned sly. “I thought so. Finn tells me you quit this past weekend. Who’s gonna make my coffee now?”

 

            Rey flopped back against the pillows. Kylo’s clock said _9:02._ Had she really slept that late? “I’d say Mala, but she figured out a way to burn it, last I checked.”

 

            “Ah, fuck it. I’ll just make it myself next time. But,” he said, his voice going eager, “I have news for you.”

 

            She sat bolt upright in bed. “The interview!”

 

            “You made it to the next round, Rey!”

 

            Rey hesitated, then deflated. “Fuck. I have to do that again?”

 

            Poe laughed. She jumped. “What do you mean, _again_?” he said. “Rey, there’s more than one interview. Did you think that was it?”

 

            She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know!”

 

            “Hey, hey, now you know. Easy there, spitfire!” She could see him in the Outpost, holding up his hand in surrender. “But a second interview is nothing to sneeze at. Ello really liked you— but I knew he would—so now you get to go to the next stage. Couple hours with management, your purser, some other attendants you’ll work with. You’ve got this in the bag.”

 

            Rey squeezed her pillow to her chest, grinning. “Ello liked me?”

 

            “Sure did,” said Poe. “He said you’re easy to talk to, Rey. That’s _huge_. So many people don’t know how to talk to another human being.”

 

            She thought of Kylo and his halting, awkward speech: it seemed so commanding and even cold to people he didn’t know, but it was shy and hesitant around her, as if she’d shatter to pieces the second he said the wrong thing.

 

            Poe was still talking. “Anyway, enough of me. I’ll talk your ear off some other time. If you tell me when you’re free, I’ll pass it on with your phone number. Okay?”

 

            After they exchanged details and goodbyes, Rey ended the call. _You quit this past weekend._ Last night, while she and Kylo had laid on the couch, Jabba’s had called her to ask where the hell she had been; she quit that job, too. Suddenly, the expanse of the day stretched out ahead of her, intimidating rather than comforting.

 

            What now?

 

            She rolled out of bed. Aside from perpetually wearing Kylo’s clothes or going back to her single outfit, she had nothing clean to wear. Surely even the rich had to do their laundry? She couldn’t well go out in Kylo’s T-shirt and too-big sweatpants. Rey pawed at her eyes as she flicked the bathroom light on.

 

            A white marble counter stretched to her left, complete with an enormous regressed sink and an unbroken wall-to-wall mirror above it. To her right was the shower she had used on their first date: Himalayan-salt-pink glass on three sides, a charcoal-colored stone wall on its fourth. There was a white stand-alone bathtub beside the shower, though it had no soap or shampoo nearby. The toilet was against the far wall, facing the door. Out of habit, she kicked the bathroom door shut before walking over to pee.

 

            While washing her hands, she stared hard at herself in the mirror. Her face looked…plumper, somehow. Better rested. She scratched her head. Kylo left nothing on his counter, save for the hand soap, two toothbrushes in a white ceramic mug, and a crumpled tube of toothpaste. She knelt and opened the hidden cabinets below the counter, revealing two plastic storage modules in the cavernous space below. Each held three drawers. Rey opened one.

 

            Several bottles of expensive-looking hair products.

 

            She opened the next.

 

            A red hair dryer, its cord wrapped around the handle.

 

            In the plastic shelf below: A face wash, some moisturizer. New toothpaste, still in its box. Hand cream. She moved to the next module.

 

            Eye drops and eye cream. Ibuprofen, cold medicine. Migraine tablets; when she shook the plastic bottle, she could only count two left.

 

            She closed that drawer, moved on.

 

            Bandaids. Neosporin. Rubbing alcohol.

 

            Rey opened the last drawer. Shaving cream, some old-fashioned barber’s blades. She screwed open the bottle of aftershave and held it under her nose. The clean, spicy scent she associated with Kylo wafted out, and she sighed.

 

            When she closed the drawer, she caught sight of a dark shape, hidden far back behind the sink pipes. She practically had to crawl into the cabinet to reach it. Her fingers scrabbled against a pebbled plastic surface. Rey grunted and, body halfway in the cabinet, finally dragged it out into the light.

 

            It was a hard plastic pencil case. The purple lid, bumpy and covered in cartoon stars, hid its contents from her. Rey shook it; something inside shuffled around.

 

            She flipped the pencil case over. There was a small square in the middle: _This case belongs to…_ And hand-etched underneath, in a teenager’s handwriting: _KYLO REN._

 

            Rey looked over her shoulder. Kylo was long gone from the apartment, she knew, but this was going somewhere deeply personal. She imagined the boy in the news photos opening and closing this case every day, shoving it into a backpack alongside a smushed peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich and a Lando novel. Rey looked harder at the case. No, no, there, by the brand name: _TM 2000,_ two years after the disappearance _._  And the engraving. This relic wasn’t Ben's, wasn't ever Ben's. By 2000, Kylo Ren had already devoured Ben Solo. She couldn't picture Kylo as a boy, just as surely as she couldn't picture Ben as a man.

 

            But why was it here?

 

            Why did Kylo still have this?

           

            She opened the case.

 

            A red velvet cloth lined the bottom. Placed on top of the case (and slightly disturbed by Rey’s jostling) were four silver items. Rey blinked and peered down at them.

 

            At first, she wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at. They were rectangular; a single round hole pierced each of their centers. One side was thicker than the other. She reached in and picked one up, felt the sheet of metal between her fingertips. She turned it over.

 

            She understood.

 

            She dropped the razorblade and stumbled backwards onto the cold tile. This was where the scars had come from. Kylo kept these, cherished them, treated them like sacred objects. Rey sucked in a heavy gasp; her ribs felt like they were collapsing. Did he do this every day? For how long? Since 2000?

 

            Since earlier?

 

            Rey let out a high, reeding sob. The bathroom light made the razorblades glint at her as she trembled. Every question hit her brain at once, coming so fast that they just became single words: How? Did he? What? Why would? Why? For so long?

 

            A door opened and shut in the apartment.

 

            Rey gasped and scrabbled to close the case. Someone was in the apartment. She shoved the case back into the cabinet as far back as she could manage and slammed it shut.

 

            “Kylo?” she called.

 

            No answer.

 

            She hauled herself to her feet and pawed at her cheeks. “Kylo, are you home early?” She pushed open the bathroom door and crossed the bedroom into the living room. “Kylo—“

 

            The person in the apartment was not Kylo.

 

            He wasn’t looking at her. He moved like a ghost through the kitchen, picking through drawers and opening and closing cabinets. He looked…bored, as if he had done this a thousand times before. The man peered into the fridge, snorted, closed it. Fear, cold and stifling, made its home in her chest.

 

            “Hello?” Rey called. “Can I help you?”

 

            The man looked up and raised his eyebrows—or what was left of them, Rey couldn’t tell from so far away. There was little to no hair on the man’s head; only a few gray wisps were combed over the top. His face was uneven, mouth thin and pinched tight as if he had just bitten into a lemon. His golden suit hung ill-fitting on his frame. He looked about to fall apart.

 

            And then he smiled, all teeth. Rey took a few steps back.

 

            “Hello, child,” said the man. His voice was like sour milk.

 

            “Do you know Kylo?” she asked. Maybe he was just a neighbor who had gotten lost; he looked old enough. _Be nice._ She reached out a hand and hated how her fingers shook.

 

            The man threw back his head and laughed. “ _Know_ Kylo? I am Kylo’s guardian.”

 

            Rey’s fingers curled around the air. She withdrew her hand. "Excuse me?"

 

            He tilted his head and smiled at her again. “Don’t be shy. Let’s introduce ourselves.”

 

            The man didn’t move, but Rey found herself crossing the living room to get to him. A tinge of expensive cologne hit her, though she was nowhere near him. As she approached, the man reached into his breast pocket and offered a business card. Rey took it with the very tips of her fingers, staring up into the man’s face.

 

            It read:

 

FIRST ORDER VENTURES

_Simon Snoke_

_Chief Executive Officer_

_snoke@firstorder.ven_

            It was identical in every way to Kylo’s. The phone number was even two digits off from his.

 

            “You must be Rey,” said Snoke.

 

            “How do you know my name?” she said to the card, voice low.

           

            He chuckled, put his hands behind his back. “I try to keep up with my ward’s comings-and-goings.”

 

            “Kylo’s thirty,” she said slowly. She looked up at him. His friendly expression hadn’t faltered in the slightest. “And you’re not his father.”

 

            His smile twisted into something wry and knowing. “Do I look that old?”

 

            Rey said nothing.

           

            Snoke sighed and looked thoughtfully out of the window, like they were old friends catching up. “I adopted Kylo Ren when he was very young. As much as I would have liked to have children of my own, I hadn’t found a suitable partner. And so I decided to give an already-living child a better life.”

 

            Rey felt like the room was spinning. She wanted to crush the card in her hand, she wanted to put her thumbs on Snoke’s eyes and push them in until they gave like fruit and she _didn’t know why._ There was a ringing in her ears. Everything was off.

 

            “I’ll leave you to your breakfast,” said Snoke with a polite smile. He held out a hand. “So good to meet you, Rey.”

 

            She tentatively shook it. Snoke’s hand was cold and dry.

 

            He winked. “Let’s all get together as a family sometime. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

 

            “Sure,” Rey bit out, pushing down the bile rising in her throat.

 

            Snoke pushed past her on his way to the front door. The expensive cologne filled her nostrils, and the bile rose back up. The door had barely closed behind him when Rey finally crumpled the card, knuckles going white from the force.

 

            Kylo.

 

            She had to call him.

 

            Rey stalked back to the bedroom, where her phone lay waiting on the bed. She snatched it up and opened a new text to Kylo:

 

            _Kylo, who is Sn—_

Rey stopped.

 

            She thought of him, shy and gentle as he kissed her and touched her hair. She thought of the way his voice went low and hushed when they spoke. Sweet Kylo, who despised his body as badly as she despised hers. Unbidden, she wondered if Snoke knew Kylo hurt himself.

 

            She closed the text window and called him instead.

 

            Kylo picked up on the second ring. “Hi.” So calm. There were people chattering in the background. “What’s going on?”

 

            “Hey, Kylo.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Um.”

 

            “What’s the matter?” The people in the background faded into nothingness; Kylo must have walked away for privacy. “Rey, are you alright?”

 

            The words came out all at once. “Snoke came in here and I don’t feel safe so I’m going home I’m _sorry_.”

 

            Kylo was silent. Rey pulled the phone away from her ear to look at it; he was still connected.

 

            She put the phone back up to her ear. “Kylo, I can’t stay knowing that man can just walk in here. I know he’s your—“

 

            “Guardian,” Kylo finished for her, his voice whisper-soft.

 

            “There’s something not right there. _Please_. He’s not right.”

 

            “He won’t hurt you,” said Kylo. “He’s my father.”

 

            “He’s _not your father_ , Kylo, I _met_ your father—“

 

            “Did you?” Kylo’s voice went cold. Rey pushed on, pacing around the bedroom.

 

            “Yes, Kylo, and that…whoever that was, it wasn’t him.”

 

            A pause. Kylo sighed, as if Rey was exhausting him.

 

            “It’s not funny,” Rey snapped. “I’m terrified. I don’t know who he is, and I’ve got a bad feeling.”

 

            “I think,” said Kylo, “there’s a lot about my life you need to get used to.”

 

            “Don’t talk to me that way!”

 

            Kylo paused. He sighed again. She could imagine him running his hand through his hair. “Okay. I won't. Sorry.”

 

            Rey pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m going to go back to my apartment. Go back to work, I won’t keep you.”

 

            “You’re not coming back,” he said softly.

 

            “I don’t know yet. But I still—“

 

            Like? Love?

 

            “—I still want to see you. But I’m afraid of him.”

 

            “I won’t keep you.”

 

            “Hey. Don’t do that.”

 

            “Don’t what, Rey?” When she didn’t answer, he repeated himself: “Don’t what?”

 

            Rey struggled for words, then settled on: “Don’t beat yourself up.”

 

            “I should tell you the same,” Kylo said. “Goodbye, Rey.”

 

            Before she could say anything, the line went dead.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: envysnest


End file.
